Cupid Painted Blind
by AnastasiaMarieS
Summary: John Hancock doesn't know who the frail, injured woman is when she collapses on his doorstep, but he does know that he'll do anything to make sure the people responsible are punished. Now she's a part of his town and in Goodneighbor, you hurt those who need hurting.
1. Kindness

At first she thought the neon lights shining ahead of her were nothing but a mirage. Weak from the escape she could barely hold herself up, clinging desperately to the walls of the dilapidated buildings around her for support. Keeping to the shadows, cowering at even the smallest of sounds she was so tempted to just sit down and give up. All she had ever known was pain and ugliness, so why even bother? But then she realized the lights weren't a figment born of a desperate desire for safety. They were real.

"Goodneighbor?" Her voice sounded weird in her own ears, dry and weak. _Is there really such a thing?_ And then the image of a young girl floated into her mind, smiling shyly as she offered the last of her water to a complete stranger, for no other reason than to be kind. Good. She pushed the memory away, trying not to cry. She couldn't afford the luxury of tears, not here.

She took a shaky breath and pushed herself away from the wall, leaving a bloody smear on the dirty bricks. She stumbled toward the door the sign pointed to, hoping against the odds that help was waiting on the other side. She tripped over some rubble, scraping her palms and the right side of her face, but the pain was negligible compared to her many other injuries and she staggered back up on to her feet, fueled by sheer determination.

She reached the door, grabbing the handle and pulling with all the strength she had left in her emaciated body. It wasn't enough, though. No matter how hard she pulled, the door did little more than wiggle in its frame. _This can't be happening._ To come so close to potential safety, only to be too weak to open the fucking door? It was almost too much for her. She dug her barefeet into the ground and pulled as hard as could, abused muscles straining with the effort until her hands slipped and she fell back on her ass, limbs splayed about her, the door falling back against its frame with an ominous thud.

Just as she was about to curl into a ball and cry, the door swung open and she looked up into eyes black as night, unknown but shockingly familiar. The man held out a withered hand to her, smiling kindly, and she wasn't sure if her heart was going to race out of her chest or stop altogether. She put her hand in his without an ounce of hesitation, reassured by the shocking warmth of his skin. He pulled her up easily and she threw herself into his arms, overcome with gratitude. She felt him go still for a long moment, but then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. One of his large hands rested on the back of her head, while the other slipped around her waist. She trembled against him, praying this wasn't all some kind of fever dream.

"You alright there, sister?" His voice was warm and deep, gravely in the best way. She had never heard such kindness in a man's voice and she knew that the instinct that had driven her into his arms was dead on.

"I think I might be… now." She clung to him, hands fisted into the red fabric of his coat, desperate for just a few more moments of human contact.

"Finn, haven't we had the extortion talk one time too many?"

"I ain't extortin' no one, Mayor." The way he all but spat out his title made it obvious what Finn thought about him. _That's fine. Give me half an excuse and I'll shove my knife into you so fast you won't even see it… until I pull it back out._ Hancock smiled at the miscreant, raising what used to be his eyebrow back before he had become a ghoul.

"You're lookin' to, though. I might be ugly, but I'm sure as fuck not stupid. I don't wanna catch you lurkin' by this door again, ya feel me?"

It was almost as if his mention of the door had brought it to life. He watched as it shook in its frame. He would have threatened Finn some more, but he was curious about what was on the other side of his front door, so he waved him off with nothing more than a menacing glare and went to investigate. The noise had stopped, but he flung the door open anyway and his heart clenched at the pathetic sight before him.

She was barely more than skin, bones and the largest brown eyes he had ever seen. They were such a deep, rich color and they reminded him of the coffee that Daisy loved so much, but could rarely find. She had obviously had a rough go of things, judging by the layer of dirt and grime that covered her and the scraps of cloth that remained of her clothes. She was bleeding from several minor scrapes and cuts, as well as a couple more major ones. She had a particularly nasty gash across her ribs that was still bleeding and one thigh was sliced open so deeply he was pretty sure he could see muscle.

Without thinking about it, he offered her his hand, only belatedly worrying that she might recoil from his touch, most smoothskins did, after all. Shockingly, not only did she not hesitate, but once she was on her feet again she was suddenly pressed against his chest. He was so shocked that he couldn't even react at first. He just stood there, stunned, as she burrowed into him. After a moment he relaxed, wrapping his arms around the tiny smooth skin as she quivered against him. He didn't know what she had been through, but it was obvious that it had been going on for awhile. A person didn't get to this level of malnourishment in a week or two. It took months of neglect to reach this level of emaciation. He filled with rage at the thought of anyone treating another human being with this kind of disregard. It reminded him of Vic, the previous mayor, and the way he had treated the drifters before he had put an end to the tyranny... and the man himself. He had a feeling someone else was in serious need of ending...

"You alright there, sister?"

"I think I might be… now." Her voice was soft, muffled as it was against his chest. She balled her fists in the fabric of his coat, pulling him even closer. He didn't mind in the least.

"I think you'll be even better once we get you inside and seen to by a doctor." He felt her go rigid in his arms, but he wasn't sure what he could have possibly said to upset her.

"I don't have any money." He silently cursed himself. Of course she didn't have anything and how was she to know that he was the mayor, able to get her any help she needed.

"Don't worry 'bout the caps, doll. I'm kinda well connected." He pulled back from her just enough so that she could see his face and winked, giving her his most winning smile.

"That's the least of my concerns…" she was shaking so hard by this point that Hancock worried she would fall over without his support. "People might be looking for me… people I would rather not be found by."

She took a deep breath, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, but she knew she was failing miserably.

"I can see why." A hard, angry look settled on to his features, transforming his face. For one heart-stopping moment she thought the look was meant for her, but when he heard her sharp intake of breath as she tried to step back, the look was once again replaced by one of concern. _He's upset that someone hurt me, a total stranger._ She had seen so many people not care one iota about the suffering of others that she had feared that was just the way this world worked. Only one other person had ever shown her an ounce of kindness before this and it was an unfamiliar, but utterly welcome, sensation. Everyone else would walk right past, some averting their eyes while others stared, reveling in the misfortune. She wasn't sure which was worse, but either way, no one cared. No one ever cared. _Except Maggie._ She shook her head, trying to forget, at least for now. That was when she realized the kind man, whose arms were still around her, was waiting for her to say something. She hadn't even realized he had spoken.

"I'm sorry, what?" She could feel the warmth of what little blood she had left filling her cheeks in a brilliant blush. She hated blushing, which only made her blush even harder. Here was this stranger, offering her help when he had no obligation to her whatsoever, and she couldn't even be bothered to listen to him? She felt awful, but he just smiled warmly at her and repeated himself.

"If you're worried about word gettin' around about you in Goodneighbor, it's probably not wise to parade you through the streets all the way to the doctor. My place is right inside and I could go get the doctor and bring her to you."

"I don't want to see the doctor." She could feel herself beginning to shake again, but she couldn't help it. Not after the only "doctor" she had ever seen had "treated" Maggie. She could feel her heart rate spike as she gasped for air, a cold sweat creeping over her flesh.

"Forget the doctor. Don't worry. I've got ya, doll. Just come with me and I'll patch ya up myself." He turned, pulling her along with an arm wrapped tightly around her waist for support. They had made it halfway to the door that the man had indicated when she heard someone clear his throat behind them.

"And who's this?"

"None of your fucking business, Finn. Didn't I tell ya to clear out?" His voice was more of a growl than anything, but his arm around her waist stayed firm yet gentle as he ushered her forward.

"I'm goin'... but it seems to me that you care more for outsiders than your own people, Mayor." She couldn't see the owner of the voice, but it made her skin crawl. When he said the word "mayor" her head snapped up, searching for his eyes. He just smiled ruefully down at her with a slight shrug before replying.

"Everyone starts off as outsider, Finn. Surely even you realize that."

They reached the door then and he held it open for her, leading her in and up the stairs, letting it fall back into the frame with a loud, wooden thunk. She realized, rather belatedly, that she had gone off with a strange man based on nothing more than the kindness in his onyx eyes - and a feeling. She hoped she was right, that he was the kind of man he appeared to be, because if not… she was truly and royally fucked.

He lead her up a curved staircase and into the room at the top of the steps. The room was dominated by two large, comfortable looking sofas facing each other with a beat up wooden coffee table in the middle. Caps, chems and Gwinnett Stout bottles littered the table's scarred surface. He motioned for her to sit down on the sofa to the left while he made room for himself on the coffee table with one careless sweep of his hand.

"Well, doll, you're gonna need stitches. A lot of stitches. I don't think a Stimpak alone is going to close up that gash in your thigh. Do you want a dose of Med-X first?" He had a hand laid casually on her knee as he inspected the wound and left it there as he looked up at her, waiting for her answer.

"I would rather not…" she answered hesitantly. She just didn't like the idea of being so completely helpless so soon after obtaining her freedom. It seemed like an unnecessary risk.

"It's up to you, but if you change your mind just speak up, okay? Cause I'm not going to lie to you, girl. This is going to hurt like hell." His voice was kind as he absently ran his thumb back and forth over her knee. Normally if someone touched her like that, it would have made her skin crawl, but with him, it was comforting. It was a pleasant distraction from all her many hurts.

"What else is new? Isn't that just life? Moving from one painful thing to the next?" She knew she sounded bitter, but why the hell shouldn't she?

"Hopefully that's all in the past now. Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people. We don't stand for the kind of shit you've obviously been through. You're safe here." His voice was warm and sweet, making her want to believe him. _How can I? Maggie's the only person who's never lied to me. Why should he be any different_? But in her heart, she thought that just maybe this man was being sincere. She didn't know what to say to his promise of safety, so she just smiled shyly and changed the subject back to more pressing matters - not passing out from the pain of all the stitches she was about to receive.

"You wouldn't happen to have some whiskey, would you? Maybe a shot of that would take the edge off…" She hated to ask for anything else after all he was doing, but she really did need that drink.

"I think you're gonna need more than just a shot. I'll grab ya a bottle." He patted her knee and stood up, busying himself with the gathering of supplies and closing the double doors that led into the room and locking them. She watched him closely as he moved about the room. He should have looked ridiculous in his old red coat and equally ancient looking hat, but instead he looked… interesting, exciting. He carried himself well and every movement was made with purpose. His confidence was attractive. When he had everything he was likely to need he sat back down in front of her. He uncorked the bottle of whiskey and took a large gulp before passing it to her, smiling as the amber liquid burned all the way down.

"Helps settle the nerves," he said with a shrug. She laughed, taking a dainty sip and wincing as the liquid fire worked its way down her throat. She coughed a couple times, dismayed that she could feel her cheeks blushing. Again.

"Been awhile." She choked out. He laughed, smiling broadly, but it wasn't unkind and the sound brought a small smile to her lips in return.

"Practice makes perfect, sunshine." He chuckled, indicating she should take another sip by nodding his head in the direction of the bottle still clutched in her hand. The second sip went down much smoother and she was feeling pleasantly fuzzy within moments.

He opened a can of water and poured some onto a cloth. He held the can over her injured thigh, but paused to look questioningly into her eyes, only dousing the wound at her nod. The water was a shock, but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as when he took the cloth and began to clean off the old, dried blood. She held on to the sofa with one hand, the bottle of whiskey clutched to her chest in the other.

"Don't forget to breath," he whispered, not looking up from the task in front of him. She hadn't even realized she had been holding it. She exhaled before taking several deep breaths followed by another swig of whiskey. _Maybe I should have just taken the damn meds..._

When the wound was finally clean enough and he sat with the needle poised above her raw flesh, he paused.

"By the way, my name is John Hancock. It's nice to meet you." And then the needle plunged beneath her skin. _Yup. Definitely should have taken the meds._

Hancock was trying to block out the sounds of her whimpers and cries, because it was tearing him up. _There's a reason I'm mayor, not a damn doctor._ He hated that he was hurting her, but it couldn't be helped. He wished she would have taken the Med-X, but he had to admit that he was impressed by her determination. She seemed to be a tiny wisp of a thing, barely more than air, but here she was getting stitched up by some random ghoul she had just met with only a few sips of whiskey in her to detract from the pain. She was stronger than she looked and he couldn't help but be intrigued by the woman that had managed to stumble through the ruins in the state she was in and make it his town still alive. That took guts and fire - two things she seemed to have plenty of.

After the stitches were in, he applied a Stimpak to various points in and around his handiwork. Now that the biggest wound of hers was out of the way, he began to evaluate the rest of her injuries. She was going to need a few more stitches here and there, a lot of Stimpaks, and, most of all, a steady supply of food and water. He could see the signs of long term dehydration and near starvation all over her. Her hair had been shaved off, possibly by her captors, but it had begun to grow back. The new growth was the same rich brown as her eyes and he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Her face was thin, her jaw and nose standing out in stark contrast to the rest of features. Where someone else might have looked severe, she looked striking. He could see that with a few weeks of comfy living her features would fill out, making her even more beautiful.

As he continued patching her up he made mental plans for where she should stay and how best to keep her tucked away while she healed. As long as she was in Goodneighbor he was confident that he could keep her off the radar, but he wanted to do more than that. He carefully tilted her face upward so he could inspect a pair of stitches he had put in her forehead, when the light caught briefly on the usually shadowed skin of her neck. He only got to look for a moment, because at the sound of his shocked gasp she jerked her chin from his fingers. Their eyes met for one electric moment moment before she looked away, focusing instead on the whiskey bottle in her lap and hiding the marks on her neck in shadow once more.

"Well, I think that's about as good as it gets," he said quickly, trying to act like he hadn't seen anything. "I found some clothes that I think might fit you, so if you want to get changed I thought you might be more comfortable sleeping at Daisy's."

He offered her a flannel shirt and a faded pair of jeans which she accepted with a slight nod. She stepped to the side of the sofa and before he could even take two steps she had begun to remove the tattered remains of her clothing. He froze awkwardly, looking up and away quickly.

"I can.. Go?"

A humorless laugh met his ears in response to his stuttered question.

"What's the point?"

The pain in her voice drew his eyes to her like a magnet. His old, red flannel was much too large for her, hanging down to mid-thigh on her skinny frame. There was always something about seeing a beautiful woman wearing something of his. _It's been a long time since I've seen such a sight..._

"Look," she said before he could think of a response, "I don't know why you helped me, why you give a shit about some ragged nobody that couldn't even manage to open a fucking door… but thank you."

Hancock could see unshed tears brimming in her eyes and couldn't help himself. He closed the distance between them and gently tucked her head under his chin, holding her closely to his chest. He could feel her shoulders shaking as she finally broke down in his arms. He didn't say a word, just held her until it became obvious that she was too weak to stand anymore. He picked her up and carefully carried her over to the sofa, sitting down with her still in his arms. She was far too light and as she cried herself out he made her silent promises that she would never go without again.

"John," hearing his first name in her small broken voice tugged at his heartstrings in a way that was completely unfamiliar, "I know you planned on taking me some place else for the night, but if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd rather just stay with you."

"You sure?" He tried to keep the hopeful sound out of his voice, but he was pretty sure he had failed miserably.

"I've never felt safer. Not that I can remember at least…"

"Never could say no to a pretty lady," he said with a cocky grin, trying to coax a smile out of her. It worked and he pulled her close again. She laid her head on his shoulder and he marveled again at her willingness to be close to him. Beside the occasional awkward handshake or accidental touch, he hadn't been this close to someone that was still in possession of all their skin since before he lost his. He had been with other ghouls on occasion, when the desire for human contact overpowered his insecurities, but mostly he just kept to himself. He didn't know why this smoothskin was so comfortable with touching him, but he was almost disgusted by how much he was enjoying it. He didn't want to let her out of his arms for a moment, afraid that he would never get her back into them.

"You never told me your name, doll." He whispered into her hair.

"That's because I don't have one," she whispered back and he was pretty sure he could hear his own heart breaking to pieces in the silence that followed.


	2. Trust

Hancock woke to the sounds of gentle snoring and a thin, delicate hand clutching the bare skin of his hip. His eyes snapped open, confused. He hadn't shared a bed with anyone in years. He wasn't in his bed though, he was stretched out on the sofa and the woman in his arms wasn't there for anything other than comfort and protection. He thought back over the events of the evening and one thing stuck out to him, bothering him even more in the light of day than it had last night. _How can she not have a name?_

He looked down at the profile of the face pressed into his chest. Her chin was raised a little and that combined with the morning light was just enough to let him see past some of the layers of dirt on her. Her neck was a mess of bruising around a deep scar that seemed to extend all the way around her frail neck. Horrified, he realized she must have had some kind of collar fastened tightly around her neck. _Like she was some kind of animal._ He had seen some terrible things in his day, but this was without a doubt the worst. His arms tightened protectively around her.

"Maggie, no! Be careful!" She was talking in her sleep, her brow furrowed in concern. She squeezed him closer, but he knew she was seeing someone else in her dream. _Who was Maggie?_ He thought she was calming back down, but then she started kicking him away, frantically calling out the name of a girl that wasn't there.

He shook her shoulders gently, afraid of hurting her, but equally afraid of her hurting herself if he didn't intervene.

Her eyes popped open and she froze, staring into his face blankly. He could see the moment that the night's events came back to her, because she smiled broadly.

"John… You're real."

He laughed, bringing one hand up so he could stroke her cheek with his thumb.

"Last I checked." He winked and was rewarded with a surprisingly child-like giggle for someone who had scars like hers on their neck.

"I just can't believe this is real," she said, eyes wide with wonder. "I never thought I would…"

He waited in silence for a moment, giving her a moment to collect herself before he asked her the question on his tongue.

"Doll, who's Maggie?"

"How do you know that name?" Her eyes filled with fear as she tried to stand up, almost falling off the sofa in her panic.

"It's okay. You were sayin' it in your sleep." He kept his voice as calm as possible, reaching out to catch her before she could fall. She relaxed slightly at his words, taking in gulps of fresh air. He helped her sit up and once they were both upright and facing each other on the sofa, she seemed ready to talk.

"Maggie is, was, like a sister to me. She's the only person, other than you, that has ever been kind to me. She's the reason I was able to escape, but now… I don't even know if she's alive."

Tears worked their way down her face, leaving moist trails in their wake.

"We'll get her back." He reached for her hands, holding them between both of his as he looked into her eyes. "You're going to have to tell me who has her, though."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Besides, I don't even know how to get back there!" Her voice broke in panic at the realization.

"We'll find a way, just not right this second. You're not in any shape to be makin' grand rescue attempts. I got connections, I'll ask 'round and see what I can dig up."

"Just be careful."

"Always, sister." He squeezed her hands, hoping he could keep all the promises that kept coming to his lips.

She had food in her stomach and access to all the water she could ever need. It was so hard to pace herself, but Hancock reminded her it would only make her sick if she over did it. Now that she had eaten, she was starting to realize just how bad she looked... and smelled. She couldn't remember ever having the luxury of caring about her appearance. Hancock must have seen the way she was looking at her grimey hands, because he stood up suddenly, telling her he would be back in a moment.

When he returned, he was carrying two very large pots by the handles that were filled with sloshing water and he had a towel draped over his shoulder.

"I was thinkin' you might be interested in a bath."

She smiled so hugely that it pulled some of her stitches uncomfortably, but she didn't even care. It was almost unreal, the difference a few days could make. Had someone told her last week that she would soon have not only a full belly, but a smile, too, she wouldn't have believed them. It hadn't seemed even remotely feasible. _If only Maggie was here with me._ That was the only problem she could find with her new situation. She was going back for her, though. She just needed to get her strength back.

Hancock bustled around, making preparations, refusing her offers of help with a casual wave of his hand. Eventually he had heated and hauled the water to an old, but clean, tub. While he lead her to it, he told her about the cistern on the roof that collected rain water, which he had boiled to make it safe for her to bathe with.

"Thank you so much for going to all this trouble. I don't know how I will ever repay you for everything you've done for me." She tried to look him in the eyes, but she ended up staring at her hands instead. She had rarely been in a position to be thankful for someone's help and she was finding herself uncomfortable with having nothing to offer in return. "I will find a way to pay you back for this. I promise."

"That's not why I'm helping you, doll."

"Then why?" Her eyes finally found his and she could tell by the look on his scarred face that he was debating how best to answer her. He narrowed his eyes at her and then seemed to come to a conclusion, clearing his throat before answering.

"I've spent too much of my life watchin' terrible things happen to innocent people, not doing a damn thing to stop it. I promised myself years ago I'd never be that man again."

She had heard people refer to the pitch black eyes of ghouls as soulless before, ugly, but she didn't understand how someone could think that. The eyes of the ghoul in front of her were filled with such pain, sadness and determination. Their intensity was beautiful. Moving. She reached up, cupping one of his rough cheeks in her dirty hand. His eyes fluttered shut for just a moment as he leaned into the touch, his hand coming up behind hers.

It was so strange for her, to enjoy the touch of a man. Every other one that had touched her had been… _Don't let them ruin this moment._ She pushed the memories away, focusing solely on the man before her. No matter what he said, she would find a way to repay his kindness.

His eyes opened, meeting hers with an electricity that stole her breath. He smiled slowly, taking her hand from his cheek, but keeping it in his much warmer one for just a moment.

"You should hop in before the water gets cold."

"I don't think I'll be hopping anywhere. I hurt all over." She reluctantly released his hand. She wanted to ask him for his help, but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. After everything she had been through, she had long since lost any shame about being naked in front of others, but she had gotten the feeling last night that she had made him nervous.

"Do you need help?" _How did he know that?_

"If you don't mind. I'm just so fucking sore."

"I don't mind."

He reached forward and slowly unbuttoned her flannel shirt. She slipped it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He helped her into the tub and was immediately glad he had offered her his help. She would have fallen if he hadn't been there to keep her steady. She gasped as she sat down, the water sloshing as she got settled.

He grabbed a washcloth, dunking it in the water and then lathering it with soap before passing it to her.

"I can't remember ever having a real bath." Her quiet voice sounded confused as she began to scrub the dirt off her hands.

"How long were you held captive?" The question left his lips before he could even think about it.

"I'm not sure. It seemed like forever… but it was probably only four or five months."

"Where were you before that?"

"I don't really know. I don't remember much before that."

Hancock was getting the feeling that her captivity was only the tip of the iceberg.

"Start at the beginnin', doll. What's the first thing you remember?" He took the forgotten wash cloth from her unresisting hands, dunking it in the water and then rubbing more soap into it.

"The first thing I remember is being really cold." As she spoke, he washed her back, gently scrubbing away the layers of filth from her abused skin, revealing the thin lines of healed injuries. "I was in some kind of… chamber. When I climbed out, I saw that there were two rows of the things. I peered into each of them, but… all the other people in them were dead."

She paused, but he smiled encouragingly and indicated she should continue with a nod of his head.

"The only things alive were some radroaches and I got out of there as fast as I could. I used a Pip-Boy that was lying on the floor to open the door, but then I just left it where I had found it and got the hell out of there. I took this giant elevator up to the surface and it was a relief to be out of that metal grave, but nothing looked familiar. I didn't know who I was or what had happened to me. It's like I was born in that cold, underground hell… surrounded by nothing but death." Her eyes didn't see him as she spoke, seeing the past, her voice oddly monotone for something so emotional. He just kept washing her back, moving to her shoulders and then arms as she spoke, oblivious to his ministrations. "I wandered around, confused, for maybe a few hours until I finally ran into someone, but they slapped a collar around my neck and told me if I ran it would blow my head off. I wasn't willing to take that risk… so… that was it. They made me do… well, awful things. The only good thing about that place was Maggie. She was so young. Just a kid, really. And sweet, even in the middle of all that hell." She met his eyes then, coming back to the present with sigh. His heart ached for them both. "She saved me, John. I have to go back and save her, too. If it's not too late."

Slavers. Fucking slavers. He had heard whispers about some being in the area, but nothing concrete, until now. He couldn't sit back while shit like this was happening. He'd have to put his ear to the ground and figure out where the hell they were holed up.

It made sense now. All of it. The marks on her neck, her abused state, even the lack of a name all added up. No matter how crazy her story was, he knew in his heart it was the truth. All she knew of this world was fucking confusion and misery. No wonder she hadn't wanted him to leave her side. Besides this Maggie person, no one had ever done a damn thing for her. He was even more determined to help than before.

He reached for the cup Fahrenheit kept next to the tub, using it to pour water over her closely cropped hair while tears streamed down her face. He gently soaped her scalp, running his fingers along the slope of her scalp, massaging her with deft fingers. Tears were still streaming down her face, but his attentions seemed to be relaxing her and he continued for quite a bit after she was technically clean.

After he poured more water over her head he handed her a fresh cloth, the first was too dirty by this point to be of any use, and the soap so she could clean the rest of herself. He stayed crouched by the tub as she finished scrubbing her skin clean. He now got why being naked in front of him didn't bother her at all. Who knew what kind of atrocities had been committed to her by those god damn slavers. _I'll fucking kill them all._

Once she was clean and the water was too dirty to stay in, he helped her out, wrapping her in a towel and leading her back to his room. He had a large double bed with an actual frame and thought she could use it to get a decent nap. He let her rifle through his clothes and she picked another long flannel, and nothing else, before climbing under the covers of his bed. She seemed anxious at the idea of him leaving her alone, so he laid down next to her, promising to stay until she was fast asleep. He didn't want to leave her at all, truth be told, but he needed to start looking for information on where the slavers were operating from.

She cuddled up next to him, laying her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and without thinking about it, acting on instinct alone, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. Apparently she didn't mind, because she just snuggled in closer. It wasn't long before she had dozed off, her gentle snore bringing a smile to his face. It had been so fucking long since he had held anyone else like this and he had almost convinced himself that he didn't need to. That being loved as mayor was enough. But now, with this strange woman asleep in his arms, he realized how terribly lonely he had been. He had been lying to himself.

He sighed and reluctantly began extricating himself from her sleeping form. _What am I going to do when she finally leaves?_

Hancock eased the bedroom door shut behind him and went to find his right hand. Fahrenheit was outside the Old State House and her eyes focused on him as soon as he stepped into the bright sun. He lifted his chin in greeting as they moved closer to the wall surrounding his town, where their conversation wouldn't be overheard.

"What's up, Boss? Everyone's talkin' about some mystery chick you've been holed up with." Fahrenheit had an eyebrow raised in his direction with her arms crossed over the shiny metal of her armor, hip cocked. She was pure attitude, which was one of the things he loved most about her, not that he would ever tell her that. He valued his life too much.

"It's not like that, Fahr."

He filled her in on the events of the previous evening, asking her to keep an ear out for any information.

"Also, she's understandably nervous, so if you could keep the watch from stomping around the place…"

"I gotcha, Boss. We'll keep a low profile until she gets her bearings." She reached into her pocket, pulling out her pack of cigarettes. She offered one to him, passing him her flip lighter after she was done with it. They leaned against the brick wall of the State House in companionable silence as they smoked. He snuffed the cigarette out on the bricks when he was finished, putting it in his pocket before nodding farewell to Fahrenheit and walking across the way to Daisy's.

"How's the Commonwealth's favorite mayor on this fine day?" Daisy asked as she walked around the counter to greet him. They sat down at the small table in the front of her store at his indication, leaning over it so they could talk quietly.

"I assume the serious look on you face has to do with the mystery woman that came a knockin' last night?"

"Yes. She's been through hell and I think she could use a friend."

"Smoothskins aren't usually interested in-"

"She's not like that." He cut her off, not to be rude, but because he was anxious to get back. He didn't want her to wake up alone.

"Oh, really? Well, color me impressed. What's the girl's story?"

By the time he finished filling her in, Daisy's jaw was practically on the floor.

"You weren't kiddin', John. If anyone needs a friend, it's her. I'll get Kleo to keep an eye on the shop and I'll be right up, okay?"

He nodded, standing up and turning to head back to the State House.

"You're a good man, John. She's lucky she found herself on your doorstep."

He closed his eyes, glad he had his back turned to her. _Good… right._

"See ya up there, Daisy." He sighed, walking away quickly. No matter how many people he helped, it would never make up for the ones he'd been too much of a coward to stand up for.

Waking up in a soft, comfortable bed was a new experience. A pleasant one, of course, but an adjustment nonetheless. Luckily, Hancock was there next to her, reading a book by the light coming in through the window's cracked curtains.

He smiled down at her when he saw her opened eyes and she returned it happily. He tucked a scrap of paper in between the pages of the book to mark his page and then placed it in the top drawer of the nightstand.

"How'd ya sleep, sunshine?"

"Well, thank you. What were you reading?" She reached one hand out for his, happy that he readily intertwined his fingers with hers. She couldn't explain it, but she always felt better when they were touching in some way.

" _Outlander_. It's about a woman that accidentally travels through time."

"How does one 'accidentally' travel through time?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, thinking the idea of time travel was pretty farfetched, but that it probably made for a good story.

"I don't know… guess you'll have to read it sometime and find out." He suggested with a smile before continuing, "Look, I spoke with a good friend of mine. I thought ya might wanna know more than one person in town. I know you'll like her. If ya wanna meet her, that's great. If not, no big deal. I'm not tryin' to push ya into anything that makes ya uncomfortable."

"If you say she's a friend, then I trust your judgement." And she did. Maybe she should be more cautious, but she'd already placed her life in his hands and there was no going back.

They got out of bed and he managed to find her some pants that weren't a mile too long. She slipped into them before Hancock led her out to meet his friend. She was nervous, but as soon as his friend came into sight, she relaxed considerably.

"Hi, sugar. My name's Daisy and it's a pleasure." The ghoul smiled kindly at her and she returned it without hesitation, knowing instantly that Hancock hadn't steered her wrong.


	3. Muscle Memory

Hancock spent the next week helping his impromptu houseguest to get acclimated to her new surroundings. She had weird gaps in her knowledge that he could only assume came from being raised in a Vault, since her memory loss didn't seem to affect her ability to recall common knowledge.

Luckily, she shared his love of reading, so that's how they spent most of their time while she healed. He would pop a couple Mentats and sometimes they would read separately, but still in the same room, if not the same bed. More and more frequently though, she would ask him to read aloud and as his voice washed over her, she snuggled close, eyes closed, practically purring like a sunbathing kitten. He liked to imagine it was his delivery that had that effect on her and not the words of the story. He had never really had a reason to read aloud and was surprised to find he had a talent for it.

Some of the books in his vast collection she recalled with ease, but he had many she was unfamiliar with. He would have been happy to stay that way for months, just making their way through his library while they lounged in his bed. He had never, even before becoming a ghoul, spent so much time in such close physical contact with another person. Especially another person that he wasn't having sex with. As the days progressed he found his fear of her leaving slowly fade away, replaced by the feeling that they just… belonged. It was hard to think about how lonely his life had been before her and impossible to imagine his future without her.

One day, while he was reading Shakespeare to her, her eyes closed and a small, contented smile on her face, she put her hand up on the book to stop him.

"I need a favor, John."

"Anything, doll." He chuckled a little at how true those words were. He normally had to be so careful with his promises. As mayor, you had to be calculated, fair. With her, though, he just gave of himself completely.

"I want you to help me pick out a name."

He didn't say anything for a long moment, just sat in stunned silence. He had never had the responsibility of naming, well, anything before. It was such a beautiful thing, that she had that much trust in him.

"Of course," he whispered, looking into the warm pools of her eyes. "Why don't we borrow from one of the greats?" He held up the book in one hand, tapping it with his his other while he raised one would-be eyebrow in question.

"Well, if a name is good enough for Shakespeare… who am I to argue?"

She watched as he flipped through the thin pages of the _Complete Works of William Shakespeare_ , muttering under his breath and shaking his head. She was nervous and excited, but mostly… ready. She felt like once she had a name, she could really be someone. Make a difference. Save Maggie. Be more than a victim. Her physical wounds had healed and being here with John had helped heal her emotional and psychological ones in ways she hadn't even realized were happening.

He was so, gentle. He seemed to know what she needed even she had no clue. She hadn't expected to ever want to be touched again… not after what those monsters had done to her, but it was like every gentle caress from him erased some of the damage they had inflicted. With each passing day she felt the memories of the atrocities they had committed against her fade a little more, replaced by the memory of sweet embraces and roughly textured skin.

Now she just needed a name.

He looked up from the book, a small smile tugging at the corner of his thin lips. She felt her heart skip at the look in his bottomless eyes.

"I think I've got it." His voice was low, like he had a secret he was only considering sharing with her. Her stomach filled with butterflies and she realized, _He's the only person in the whole world who knows my name right now._ The idea was intoxicating and intimate in a way she never could have anticipated. She bit her bottom lip, trying to be patient, to just live in this moment for a little longer.

He held out his hand and she placed hers in it, holding her breath in nervous anticipation.

"It's nice to meet you, Adriana."

And it couldn't have been more perfect.  
**

 _At least Hancock always pays well…_ MacCready thought as he climbed the stairs out of the Third Rail. He wasn't exactly thrilled to have been coaxed into helping Hancock teach some stray how to shoot. He just had to remind himself that he needed the extra caps to send back for Duncan. Plus, the likelihood of him getting hurt was pretty slim, so it really wasn't something he could turn down. He rounded the corner as Hancock and Adriana exited the State House.

MacCready hadn't seen her when she had arrived a bloody mess, but he had heard all about it. News travels fast in Goodneighbor, especially since the Neighborhood Watch were the worst gossips he had even encountered. If the stories were even partially true, she had done quite a bit of healing in her time at the mayor's. He studied her with narrowed eyes and it wasn't hard to see why Hancock was keeping her close.

Adriana was thin, near starved really, but she still had appealing curves in all the right spots. A month of comfortable living at the State House would have her filled out in no time… MacCready tore his gaze from her body, scrutinizing her profile instead with his sharp, sniper's eyes. She had a long, graceful neck that's beaty had been marred by scars that he easily recognized as the product of a slave collar. _Shit._ Now he felt a little bad about not wanting to help her. She had obviously been through hell and managed to come out on the other side, raising his opinion of her by several notches. Hancock had only told him her name and that she needed to know how to fight. He shouldn't have been surprised that the ghoul had left out such important information.

As his eyes moved from her brutalized neck, her head snapped in his direction and they locked eyes. He held his breath for a moment under the intensity of her gaze. She was beautiful, but it was more than that. She had a fire in her eyes that was breathtaking and more than a little intimidating. Now he definitely knew what Hancock saw in her.

"Hey, Mac." Hancock greeted him as he closed the distance between them. MacCready made note of the way the Mayor had a single finger hooked though one of the belt loops on her jeans. _Yep, it's definitely like that._ The idea made him happy though, because Hancock was one of the only truly good men he had ever met in his life. If anyone deserved to have someone special, it was him. It did however, up the pressure to do a good job. What he taught her could mean the difference between her living and dying. He swallowed loudly, suddenly feeling nervous about the task before him.

Hancock introduced them and explained how he wanted to start. MacCready wasn't a fan of hand to hand combat, preferring to pick off his targets from a safe distance, but that didn't mean he wasn't proficient at it. Hancock pulled his knife out so fast that he hadn't even see where it came from, ever the show off. He flipped it around and offered it to Adriana, hilt first.

"RJ's gonna come at you and I wanna see ya stop him. Don't pull your punches and fight as dirty as you can. This is real life, doll. You do whatever you gotta to survive. Ya feel me?"

She nodded and stood stiffly, back to him. RJ handed his rifle and hat to Hancock with a glare and then prepared to attack. He was worried that she would flash back to her time with the slavers and lose it, but there wasn't anything he could about that.

He rushed forward, grabbing her arm, but the hand from her opposite side clamped onto his and pried it off, twisting it hard. Her other hand latched on as well and she turned to face him, bending his arm so that he had to lean forward to keep it from snapping. _What the-?_ She forced him down to his knees, spinning around to get behind him. He felt the sharp blade of Hancock's blade bite into his neck, just hard enough to make him nervous.

"Holy shit, sunshine!" Hancock was chortling loudly, clapping in appreciation. "I wonder where the hell ya learned that!

MacCready heard the knife clatter to the ground as her other hand released him.

"I'm so sorry! I had no idea…" Adriana had dropped to her knees in front of him, all the while apologizing profusely, hands fluttering as if she wanted to touch him to make sure he was okay, but was afraid to actually make contact.

"What the he-ck," he stumbled, barely keeping the curse from his tongue, "was that? You set me up to fight a ringer? That's real nice, Hancock." He was feeling foolish and the spreading warmth in his cheeks didn't help.

"No, it's not like that, MacCready! I, uh…" Adriana started strong, but her voice faltered and she fell silent, wringing her hands, her nuka-cola colored eyes pleading for understanding.

"Mac, she's lost her memory. Anything older than about 5 months ago is a total blank. Must not apply to muscle memory though…" the ghoul trailed off, trying unconvincingly to cover a second round of laughter with a coughing fit.

 _Holy crap…_ RJ had wished many times that he could forget things about his past, but when all was said and done, he was quite happy that particular prayer had never been answered.

"Wow. That's… crap." _Eloquent as always._ Apparently she appreciated his bluntness, because she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Yeah, it's not ideal… but you can't miss things you don't remember having, so…" she said with a shrug, climbing to her feet and offering him a hand. He wasn't too proud to accept, so he place his hand in hers and she pulled him to his feet.

"Okay, Hancock, I think it's your turn to see what she can do." He said, patting his friend a little harder on the shoulder than strictly necessary.

"With pleasure…"

Adriana felt her pulse quicken at Hancock's rasped words, watching as a cocky smile slowly slid on to his face. He sauntered towards her, lids lowered in a deceptively lazy look. When his hand shot out like lightning, aimed directly for her throat, no one was more surprised than she when her left arm deflected his strike and her right one launched itself into the pit of his stomach as she dropped into a crouch. She struck him hard enough to force the air from his lungs, but he was smiling as he leaned over, hands braced on his knees.

 _Who the hell am I?_ She hurried to Hancock, but he waved her away. Once he had caught his breath and straightened up, his arms opened for her and she gratefully fell into them.

"You must've been a disoriented mess for those slavers to have gotten a collar around that pretty neck of yours, doll." His voice was muffled in her hair and as he spoke he squeezed her tightly to him.

"I was… they got the drop on me. I never even saw it coming. And once that collar was on…" Hancock's warm presence was comforting as she thought back to how this had all begun.

"Don't blame you one bit on that score," MacCready chimed in. "I've seen first hand what one of those collars can do…"

She felt Hancock go still and then pull back just enough so that he could make eye contact with her.

"What do the collars do?" He sounded like he knew he was better off ignorant, but couldn't help the morbid curiosity.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't make any sound come out. Luckily, Mac had her back.

"If the wearer runs, or does anything the slavers are unhappy about… boom. A concentrated explosive that harms only the wearer."

The look of horror on Hancock's face made it clear what he thought about that information.

"We are going to kill them all, sunshine. Don't you worry."

"How? They have an entire camp of collar wearing hostages… including Maggie."

"We'll find a way."

The tone of his voice left no room for argument.

 _Fu-reaking slavers._ MacCready didn't even allow himself the luxury of cursing within the confines of his own mind. _I owe it to Duncan._ It was difficult though, especially when the topic of discussion was slave collars. He was with Adriana on this one, but if anyone could find a way, it was the mayor of Goodneigbor.

"Let's move on to gun training. I wanna see what you can do." He opened the door to Goodneighbor and looked over his shoulder, checking to see if they were following him and caught them still standing where he had left them, lost in each other's eyes. _So it is serious…_ He cleared his throat and Hancock slowly turned his gaze toward the mercenary.

"Lead on… kid."

"I'll show you, old man." Mac muttered under his breath.

"Bring it."

"Okay, boys… let's stay focused." Adriana laughed, extricating herself from Hancock's embrace and following him to the door. "Let's see if I can kick your asses at anything else today."

Both the men chuckled as they passed through the wall surrounding the town.

MacCready took the gun from Hancock and looked down the sight, trying to find something for her to shoot at. Down toward the Old Corner Bookstore a pack of mangy mutts were nosing about, unaware of their presence yet. _Perfect._ He handed the rifle to her, nodding in the direction of the dogs and holding up three fingers. She nodded back and tucked the rifle into the hollow of her shoulder, looking through the sight. He and Hancock stepped back, waiting with bated breath.

They watched as she found one of the dogs in her sights, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. She repeated the process three times, in quick succession and then lowered the rifle. She smiled at them, jerking her head in the direction she had just shot.

"Go check it out."

He and Hancock exchanged a skeptical glance, but did as they were told. As they got close, it was clear that the girl knew what she was doing. She had shot each hound directly between the eyes.

"Shit girl! You might be a better shot than Mac!" Hancock crowed, clearly thrilled.

"I wouldn't say that…" he argued. _I might think it, though._ "Let's see what else you can do."

By the time they called it quits, they were all extremely curious about the past she had no recollection of. _Who was this chick?_

"You think you're up to grabbing a drink at the Third Rail, doll?" Hancock had an arm slung casually over her shoulders as they walked back into the safety of the wall, MacCready holding the door open for them.

"Sure! I have to rejoin the world sometime, right?" She was in a great mood after having repeatedly kicked the men's asses. _Maybe I really can save Maggie._

"That's the spirit! You comin' Mac?"

"Of course. Drinking's probably the only thing I can do better than her, so can't miss that."

Adriana tried to muffle her laughter in Hancock's shoulder, but she was pretty sure he could still hear it.

They entered the Third Rail, the men nodding to the snappily dressed bouncer. Adriana just smiled at his tux and top hat, thinking she might be a tad underdressed. They headed down the stairs and as the bar came into view, her attire worries were assuaged. The patrons were all dressed in varying states of shabbiness and she was feeling much better about her own dirt smeared clothing until a beautiful woman in red sequins caught her eye.

She had glossy dark hair, cut in a long, banged bob. Her dress sparkled and glittered in the spotlight that had been pointed towards the makeshift stage as she sauntered up to the mic stand, hand on the curve of her hip. Her other hand reach up to cup the mic, as if it were caressing the neck of her lover, bringing them in for a tantalizing taste. Adriana was transfixed as the woman opened her mouth and the sultry sound of her voice filled the room.

"Took a walk, out in the Fens…" she sang, her hips swaying to the beat.

Adriana had never seen anything so overwhelming beautiful.

It wasn't until she heard another one of Hancock's low laughs that she realized she had quit walking, staring at the beautiful songstress.

"I see Magnolia's caught your eye… no surprise there." He pulled her forward, towards the bar where a Mr. Handy was slinging drinks, his cockney accent pitched to carry over the song bird's crooning.

"I'm a good, good neighbor…"

"Whatcha want to drink, sunshine?"

"Hmmm… do they have any wine?" The inflection of her voice raised in hopeful question.

"Wine, eh? 'Course they do. Comin' right up."

As he and Mac ordered their drinks, she watched Magnolia work the room. _She's spectacular._ It was nice to see someone doing something they obviously loved, not something they had to. Maybe that was why she loved Hancock's obsession with the written word so much. It was rare to see people do things just for the simple joy of it.

Drinks in hand, they headed to a red sofa, off to the left. She sank into the dirty, worn fabric with a sigh, as MacCready and Hancock dropped down on either side of her. She accepted the glass filled with dark red liquid, sipping it eagerly. It was delicious. She leaned back, relaxing as the wine worked its way through her system. She had that odd feeling you get when a word is on the tip of your tongue, but you can't quite recall it. Just as it drifted close enough for her to grab it, three men walked into the bar and the sight of them chased all other thoughts from her mind.

She leaned back, trying to disappear into the shadows between her two companions, but she needn't have worried. The new arrivals weren't paying attention to anything other than Magnolia, cat calling and making lewd gestures as they made their way up to the bar. Adriana almost sloshed her wine out of its glass as her hands shook. She could feel the tears burning in her eyes and she tried to push them down, but they spilled over anyway, leaving moist tracks in their wake.

"Sunshine?" Hancock took the glass from her hand, concern in every line of his face. She was having a hard time getting enough oxygen, gasping desperately as she clutched her chest. She felt like she was going to shake out of her very skin. And then she heard them say something that filled her veins with fire.

"Wonder how much we could make off a broad like that?"

She watched out the corner of her eye as the man with the purple mohawk inclined his head towards Magnolia and she saw nothing but red. She reached behind Hancock, to the hidden holster where she knew he kept his knife. At first he thought she was hugging him, but by the time he realized what she was about, it was too late and his hands were too full to stop her.

Knife in hand, she stalked toward the bar top, vision narrowing until all she could see was him. He was perched on a barstool, leaning over to whisper something into his friend's ear when she reached him.

Before he could even register her presence, she had wrapped her arm around him, placed the knife against his throat, and pulled. His blood sprayed across the bar top, gushing and spurting while everyone else seemed to freeze. They didn't stay that way for long, though. Adriana stepped back, bloody knife in hand as all hell broke loose.


	4. Blood

Hancock reached over and took the glass from Adriana's hand. She looked like she was about to hyperventilate and he couldn't figure out why. He searched her face for a clue, but none were in evidence. Her expression changed from terror to anger, but then she leaned into his chest and he thought he must have misinterpreted. _Nope._ He realized too late that she wasn't reaching for him, for comfort. She was reaching for his knife and as she stepped away from the sofa, he could plainly see the rage on her pretty face. He tried to reach out for her, but his hands were full and she was already closing in on the man with the purple mohawk.

He elbowed MacCready and they were both on their feet, staring with shocked, wide eyes as she slipped her skinny arm around the man and pulled. Blood went everywhere and for one, impossibly long moment there was nothing but silence and the sound of the man trying to breathe, his hands uselessly clutching at the gaping wound. Blood spurted from between his fingers as he gasped wetly, suffocating. But then the drinks slipped from Hancock's hands and the sound of breaking glass acted like a catalyst, the entire room erupting into deafening chaos.

Hancock wasn't sure what the fuck was going on, but as the dying man's two companions turned on Adriana, he and Mac vaulted over the back of the sofa, coming to her aid. Hopefully his trust in her wouldn't prove to be misplaced.

He pushed Adriana back, she seemed stunned, staring ahead with huge eyes, so that he could smash his fist into the face of the man closest to her. He heard the sickening crack of the man's nose breaking, felt the warm spray of his blood. He could hear Mac taking care of the second man, over to his right. Adriana shook herself, visibly coming back to the moment, and launched herself at the man who was crouched in front of her, hands cradling his face.

She knocked him over and his head hit the wood flooring with a hollow thud, arms not quick enough to catch his fall. He watched as Adriana pulled her fist back, slamming it into his already broken nose. His blood splattered her face and chest and Hancock reached forward, stopping her fist from repeating the action.

"Why?" His voice broke through the din and her head snapped up. He almost let her go when their eyes met, so intense was her rage.

"They're the ones. The slavers."

"Kill him," and he released her hand, stepping back.

As soon as he gave her permission, the rest of the patrons calmed down, accepting the decision of their mayor and waiting for the violence to run its course.

He watched as Adriana pummeled the man, finally slitting his throat the way she had his compatriot. She looked up at him, covered in blood, smiling sinisterly and he knew it shouldn't have made him feel the way it did. He was hot with desire for this avenging angel fate had dropped on his doorstep. He reached down and as her hand found his, he pulled her up into his arms. Her bloody hands dropped the knife, finding the back of his neck instead in a warm, sticky embrace. As he looked down into her red speckled face he couldn't help himself. _Fuck it._ His lips found hers, greedily devouring them. She didn't even hesitate, clutching at him, pulling him closer. She bit at his bottom lip and as he groaned she slipped her tongue into his mouth. His hands slid down her body, finding her hips and pulling them toward his, enjoying the small moan she uttered as their bodies met.

"Uh, guys…" MacCready's voice broke through the moment and they sprang apart, startled. "What do you wanna do with this one?" He was standing with his foot on the man in question's throat, who was trying unsuccessfully to pry Mac's boot off so he could breathe.

 _God damn it, Mac._ Hancock took a deep breath, trying to calm the passion the kiss had stirred within him.

"Take him to one of the cells in the State House. I have some questions to ask him."

"You got it, Boss." Mac hauled the slaver to his feet, forcing his arm behind his back to keep him under control.

Hancock watched as they disappeared up the stairs until he felt a small hand slip into his.

 _Shit, Adriana. What did I do?_ He opened his mouth to apologize, but before any sounds could leave his lips she spoke.

"Thank you. I shouldn't have acted like that, but when I heard them talking about Magnolia… I lost my mind. I couldn't imagine them doing to her what they had... " her voice tapered off, unwilling to voice the horrors she had lived. _And here I am, groping her over a dead body. What a class act I am._

"Is that what set ya off? I don't blame ya, doll. If I'd heard them talkin' that way… Well, let's just say I'm not arguing with your tactics." He squeezed the delicate hand that was nestled in his larger one, trying to be reassuring. "Some people just need hurtin'."

Adriana let Hancock lead her out of the bar after he bent to pick up his knife, wiping it on the shirt of the closest dead man, the loud Mr. Handy's loud protests following them out.

"Charlie is never gonna quit bitchin' about that mess…" he mumbled under his breath as he pulled her up the steps. She should probably feel bad about the bloody shambles she had left behind, but she felt nothing but satisfaction. _Those assholes got what they deserved._ On top of that, Hancock had kissed her. _Or did I kiss him?_ She wasn't sure it mattered. What mattered was whether or not it had meant anything to him. The fingers of her free hand found their way to her lips, brushing over their surface as she remembered the taste of him.

She had never really been kissed. Not voluntarily, anyway. She had rather enjoyed it, the surprisingly soft texture of his lips, the warmth of his mouth. Regardless of who had started what, he had seemed just as hungry for it as she had been and he had been the one to pull her close. When she thought about the pressure of his body on hers… They had touched so many times, but this had been… different. She took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart.

But then he was opening the door to the State House for her and it was time to focus. They needed to know where the slaver's homebase was located. She had described the place to both men, but neither of them had recognized it, so they were going to have get the information from the one living slaver that remained.

Hancock stopped, turning to her, before descending the stairs.

"Look, doll, things are probably gonna get… messy."

She laughed and the sound was cold, even to her ears.

"Like things aren't already?" She waved a hand, indicating her blood splattered form, sardonic smile on her lips.

"True enough, but you've only really seen my nice side. I wouldn't want…" The look of worry on his face transformed her smile into something sweet. She squeezed his hand, reassuringly.

"This world wasn't made for nice, John." She shrugged at the sad truth of it, "We have to get that bastard to talk. No matter what it takes."

He squeezed her hand back and they started down the stairs.

"No matter what it takes," he agreed softly.

Mac was waiting for them, lounging next to the locked cell.

"Well, you're certainly not boring… I'll give ya that." He said to her as she walked up, shaking his head while one corner of his mouth twitched.

"Why don't you go give Charlie a hand cleaning up, Mac?" Hancock said to the younger man, who rewarded him with a dirty look.

"That's the thanks I get? Charlie is probably losing his nuts and bolts as we speak!" The mercenary protested as he pushed himself off the wall he had been propped against.

"You can drink for free while you're there… as long as it gets cleaned up to Charlie's standards."

"Fine," he said as he huffed off, "but you're going to regret that deal."

Adriana hid her smile behind a hand as the younger man stomped off. She peered into the locked cell to find the slaver passed out in the floor. He must have given RJ a hard time.

Hancock called up for a chair and some rope. They got him restrained and then waited for him to come to. Hancock was just getting up to go get a bucket of water, impatient, when the guy came to, groaning when he realized how screwed he was.

"I'm not telling you shit." The man spit in Hancock's direction, but it fell short, landing with a splat on the dirty wood floor. Hancock chuckled, the sound even lower than normal, and cocked his head to the side. He smiled slowly.

"That's cute. We'll see how long that lasts." He pulled his knife out, twirling it between his fingers hypnotically while the slaver stared.

Hancock stood up and crossed to the chair, staring down at its inhabitant.

"Where's the shit hole you guys call home?"

"I told you I wasn't talkin'."

Hancock's knife flashed, burying itself in the man's thigh. For a moment he didn't seem to feel the pain, but his look of disbelief was quickly replaced with one of agony as he struggled against his restraints.

"Where are the rest of your little slaver friends?" Hancock grabbed the hilt of his knife and twisted. The cell rung with the sound of the man's pained scream, but neither of them were moved. Stony faced, he tugged the knife out, smiling at the blood that poured from the wound.

"Telling you won't save me! So what's the fucking point?!"

"You're right, it won't save you. You're going to die. And soon." Adriana watched as he walked around the back of the chair, leaning in to whisper into their prisoner's ear, "How painfully… now that's still up for debate. I could be merciful. Or I could make you suffer. For days."

The slaver was visibly shaking at this point, but then his eyes caught hers and lit with an idea.

"You know, we all had her. Your little whore over there." She watched Hancock go rigid, jaw clenched tight. "In fact, I fucked her and her little friend. Your bitch was the better though. So, good for you."  
Adriana closed her eyes, trying to block out the memories. Trying to block out the man's face, his words. He wasn't lying though. They had all done whatever they pleased with her and Maggie both. She knew that the cowardly little fuck was just trying to bait Hancock into killing him quickly, though, so she opened her eyes, looking for Hancock's. He obviously knew what the score was and was breathing deeply, trying to rein in his desire to end the asshole. The slaver wasn't done trying though. He started to describe some of the disgusting things they had done to her, but Hancock was done playing. His knife flicked out again, impaling the prisoner's hand to the wooden arm of the chair.

"Why are you in Goodneighbor?" He asked over the man's deafening scream. When his cries finally quieted to a whimper, Hancock repeated the question, his voice low and menacing.

"Finn told us she was here!" The prisoner nodded his head in Adriana's direction, "He said she had taken up with the mayor."

Hancock turned on his heel and walked to the bottom of the steps.

"Fahr!"

"I heard 'im, Boss. I'll go find Finn." Adriana could hear the steel in her voice and wondered if Finn would live long enough for Hancock to talk to him. Apparently, Hancock was wondering the same thing.

"I want him alive!"

"I'm not makin' any promises," her response was followed by the sound of the front door slamming shut behind her.

Hancock walked back in, shaking his head, but smiling nonetheless.

"Alright, I'm done playin', ya feel me? You tell me what I wanna know, or I gut ya right here and leave ya to slowly bleed out. What's it gonna be?"

Hancock started toward the man and he finally cracked, like the worthless piece of shit he was.

"Thicket Excavations! It's near Concord!"

Hancock smiled, pulled the knife out of the man's hand and then sliced his stomach open, spilling his intestines into his lap. The slaver cried out in horror, staring at the ruin of his body, knowing this was just the beginning of his agonizing end. He looked up at Hancock, eyes full of incoherent question, mouth working soundlessly.

"You said it yourself… you hurt my girl. You don't deserve easy. See ya in hell."

Adriana's heart stuttered in her chest at his words. _Does he mean it?_ He held his hand out for her and she didn't hesitate. They walked out of the cell hand in hand, the man's screams following them all the way up the stairs. When they reached the top Adriana stopped him and carefully pressed her lips to his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered into his scarred skin before stepping back and opening the door. Their work wasn't finished yet.

MacCready stumbled out of the Third Rail just in time to see Hancock and Finn's confrontation. _It's about time that creep gets what he deserves._

"I heard an interesting story tonight, Finn. Care to venture a guess as to what it was?" Hancock paced in front of the thug. Finn looked around, like he was trying to plan his escape, but there would be no reprieve. The Neighborhood Watch had gathered, as well as many of the town's inhabitants, and they would make sure he received whatever justice their mayor had in store. If there was one thing Hancock could always count on, it was his people. He defended them with his life, no hesitation, and cared for them like they were his own flesh and blood. In return, they trusted him, completely. MacCready could see the moment Finn registered just how fucked he truly was.

"Can't believe everything ya hear," he tried to smile, but failed miserably.

"So you're sayin' you didn't tell any slavers that Adriana had made it here, that she was staying with me?"

The crowd responded with cries of indignation. The very thought of someone betraying their beloved mayor had them calling for blood. Finn was shaking in his black leather jacket, looking more and more grim.

"I may or may not've-" the cries from the crowd increased and Finn's fate was sealed. Someone darted forward, a well aimed shove sending Finn sprawling at Hancock's feet. He climbed back to his feet hastily as the mayor closed the distance between them.

"Let this be lesson to anyone else who thinks they can betray me and get away with it." His knife darted out, sinking into the soft flesh of Finn's gut twice. The dying man fell with a thud as the crowd erupted in cheers. MacCready couldn't argue with the sentiment, not one bit.

Adriana caught his eye just then, jerking her head to the side, indicating that he should follow her. He did as she bade, meeting her at the edge of the crowd.

"You up for a little trip tomorrow, Mac?" Her voice was casual, but he knew how serious the question really was.

"You don't even gotta ask." And she didn't. If there was one thing MacCready couldn't stand, it was slavers. Plus, Hancock would undoubtedly reward him a ton of caps to send back for Duncan.

"Thanks, Mac. I'll see ya tomorrow." She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder just for a moment before turning and finding her way back the the mayor's side. _Don't even think about her man, she's already spoken for._

Hancock looked over as Adriana reappeared at his side. He reached for her hand and she slipped hers into his grasp without

hesitation. Something inside him relaxed at her touch, relieved that she didn't seem to be looking at him any differently.

"Let's get out of here, doll."

He said a few parting words to his people and as they walked off he could hear them chanting, "Of the people, for the people!" A grin split his face at the sound.

Instead of taking Adriana back to the State House, he lead her across the way to the Hotel Rexford. There was no way their little house guest was done dying and he didn't want Adriana to have to hear it. Not that he didn't think she could handle it, because she obviously could, but because she deserved a break. Especially with what was to come.

She didn't question him as he led her into the hotel and up to the front desk where Claire's dour visage greeted them. He took the key she held out to him with a nod of thanks and then led Adriana up the stairs, all the way to the top floor, last door on the right.

Hancock shed his coat after closing the door, silently lamenting all the new stains. He looked over at the blood splattered mess that was Adriana and laughed.

"Well, maybe the Rail was a bad idea." Her face broke into a smile at his words and she joined him in laughing. If the sound verged on hysterical, well that was to be expected, and he wasn't about to judge. He pulled his shirt off and used it wipe what blood her could from her face and hands, but they both needed a serious scrub. _Tomorrow._ Tonight all he was worried about was sleeping. Adriana seemed to be of a similar mind, kicking her shoes off and falling into the mattress with a sigh. She scooted over and he flopped down next to her, stretching out.

"Thank you, John. I know things got… crazy…"

"You already thanked me and crazy is somewhat of an understatement, if I'm bein' honest." They both chuckled tiredly as they settled in, Adriana curled into his bare chest without hesitation and he had to remind himself that he was a gentleman. The feel of her soft skin on his ruined flesh was intoxicating, especially so soon after the kiss they had shared. _It was just the heat of the moment, she didn't mean it. She couldn't have._

"You're not kidding…" she yawned hugely and he pulled her close, allowing himself to place a chaste kiss on the top of her head.

"Get some sleep, doll. This is only the beginning."

Adriana rested her head in the hollow of Hancock's unclothed shoulder, trying her best to behave herself. She knew by this point that she wanted him, how could she not? She also knew she wasn't ready. Wrapping one arm around his warm torso, she delighted in his warmth, his closeness. Besides, what of he didn't feel the way she thought he did? Better to be cautious. Patient.

She yawned, squeezing her eyes shut, already on the verge of sleep when she felt the press of his lips against the crown of her head.

"Get some sleep, doll. This is only the beginning."

He was right, of course, but she knew that as long as they were together, everything would be alright.

She felt him reach into his pocket and then shake the inhaler he pulled out. She heard the familiar sound of him taking a hit and this time she held her hand out. He didn't comment, just gave her the drug and watched as she took a hit of her own. Time slowed to a crawl, but as she drifted off to sleep it seemed to stop although. She didn't mind though, as long as he was there beside her.


	5. A Temporary Peace

Hancock woke in the morning with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Adriana was still asleep, snoring softly against his chest. During their slumber they had become so entangled that he couldn't move at all without fear of waking her. She was splayed across him and their limbs were completely intertwined. He was also pretty sure the dampness on his chest was due to her drooling in her sleep, but he couldn't have cared less. _A ghoul could really get used to this…_

As he layed there, carefully still, he replayed the events of the previous night in his head. Every day Adriana learned something new about herself, revealing pieces of herself to him, bit by bit, in the process. She was transforming from someone who had needed his protection to the kind of woman who just might be his match. A partner, in every sense of the word. She was kind and sweet, but fucking deadly with a knife and the juxtaposition was hot as hell. The more he learned, the more he realized that his feelings were running a lot deeper than he had ever intended. _And that kiss…_

He could feel his body reacting to the memory and quickly tried to think of something else. She was draped over him in a way that would make it painfully obvious that he was thinking some seriously impure thoughts. _Rotten tatos, rotten tatos…_ became his mantra until he could feel himself begin to relax. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. She had been used terribly and he knew that it would take a long time before she was ready to even consider sex. Hell, even once she was ready, he highly doubted that a pretty thing like her would choose his ugly mug. Maybe she'd at least settle down with MacCready. The kid was good looking enough and needed someone to take care of him. Then at least he would know she was with someone… good.

He felt her stirring and tried to erase the concern from his face, which wasn't hard to do once he saw the way her eyes light up when they met his. He felt his heart melt a little more and when her face broke out in a sheepish smile as she wiped the drool from her chin he knew he was well and truly lost. He would never be satisfied with her choosing anyone but him. How someone who was still speckled with flakes of dried blood could look so damn adorable was beyond him, but she pulled it off easily.

"Sorry…" she whispered as a light blush worked its way up her neck, spreading through her cheeks.

"I don't mind, sunshine. I'll be your pillow anytime." He reached up, caressing her face, trying not to think about how out of place his skin looked against hers.

"You've already done so much for me, the least I could do is not drool all over you and get you all wet," she said innocently as she placed her silky hand over his wasted one, keeping him from pulling it away.

He cleared his throat, keeping his lips sealed against the number of naughty retorts that clambered to spill from them.

"No worries," was all he managed to choke out.

She smiled, oblivious to his inner struggle and sat up, untangling her legs from his. It was both a relief and a torture to no longer be touching. Now he at least had a chance at stringing together a coherent sentence.

"Let's head back to the State House, doll. I don't know about you, but I would feel much better equipped to deal with this day if I was clean, fed and dosed."

"Sounds like a plan, John."

And just like that, she had him again. She was the only person around who used his first name anymore and it always sounded so… intimate. It made his blood stir restlessly in his veins as he turned toward the door, biting his bottom lip to keep from kissing hers. _How does she do this to me?_

MacCready was gathered along with the rest of the town below the balcony of the State House. Hancock had just made the call for arms, requesting help from the Neighborhood Watch to run the slavers from the Commonwealth.

"This might not seem like our fight, but if we wait to act, it could be your daughter or wife that is taken next. I don't wanna take that risk. These assholes need to die now and I don't see anyone else offerin' to do the killin'." The mayor had easily rallied more than enough people to their cause, including the assaultron that owned the local weapons shop, Kleo.

"I'm in, baby. I have weapons that need testing and they sound… deserving." The mechanical purr of the assaultron's voice, dripping sexual innuendo in every syllable, always made him acutely uncomfortable.

When they all gathered in front of Kill or Be Killed to take a head count, it was a testament to Hancock's leadership that they actually had to turn people away. They couldn't leave Goodneighbor unprotected, so they had to be very careful about their selections. In the end, it was decided that they would take five of the Neighborhood Watch and Kleo. Fahrenheit was unhappy about staying behind, but agreed that if the Super Mutants chose to attack while they were gone, Goodneighbor would need her direction and minigun. Fahrenheit took her job as Hancock's bodyguard very seriously, though, and just because she couldn't be at his side didn't mean she was going to leave him unprotected. She pulled Mac aside while everyone else headed down to the Third Rail to start planning.

"Look, Hancock's priority is gonna be keepin' that girl safe, so I need you to make it your priority to watch his back. He'll take a bullet for her, so you need to make sure it doesn't come down to that. If he shows up any worse for wear, I'm holding you personally accountable." She never raised her voice or touched him in anyway, but MacCready was thoroughly intimidated by the steel in her eyes. He had no doubt that Fahrenheit would fill him with lead from her minigun if anything happened to Hancock.

"You can count on me," he tried to tell her, but she had already turned and stormed off, knowing that he had no choice but to agree. "Well, that's great..."

MacCready headed to the Third Rail and walked up the bar, deciding he needed a drink after his little one on one with Fahrenheit. Before he could order, a glass of whiskey landed on the counter in front of him.

"On the house," the familiar voice of the robotic bartender said, nudging the glass closer to him. MacCready tried, and failed, to keep his jaw from falling open. Charlie never gave anything away without being made to and he always included a scathing comment, free of charge as well. _What the he-ck?_

"Ya jus' gonna stand there catchin' flies, or are ya gonna take me generous offer?" The Mr. Handy's harsh tone snapped him out of it and he snatched the glass off the bar top. He took a sip and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. _The good stuff, too?_ Now he had to ask.

"What's the catch?" His eyes narrowed under the brim of his beat up cap.

"It's a thank you for not makin' a fuckin' mess of me bar like your friends! Now get outta the way of the payin' customers." With a whirl of appendages he moved back down the bar, harassing a patron that had yet to order anything. MacCready walked away from the bar, shaking his head in astonishment as he made his way to the back room.

"There ya are. Took ya long enough. Sit yer ass down and let's get this started," Hancock motioned impatiently to the empty chair next to Adriana and MacCready sank into it, pleased by the sweet smile she graced him with.

The first problem they had to address were the collars, because they didn't need them using the slaves as hostages to get them to leave. They had to be disabled. Kleo came up the idea of jamming the signal to the collars and Hancock sent her over to the Memory Den to consult with Dr. Amari. MacCready hoped that between the two of them they would find a solution, because he was not interested in seeing innocent people die as they were trying to save them.

Other than the collar difficulties, the rest was pretty straightforward. After they had discussed every eventuality they could think of, Hancock dismissed everyone with orders to stock up on supplies and rest up, because they would be leaving first thing in the morning.

While Adriana was busy thanking the volunteers, Hancock pulled him aside.

"Listen, no matter what happens tomorrow, you make sure Adriana is safe, okay? Keep her in your sights. If things go sideways, I don't want her falling back into their hands. You get her out of there if I can't." Hancock's fingers were digging painfully into his arm as he peered imploringly into MacCready's eyes. _Great. Now what the he-ck am I supposed to do?_

"Yeah man, of course." He nodded reassuringly, hoping it didn't come to that. If either one of them didn't make it back he was going to be in deep trouble. As Hancock thanked him, patting him solidly on the back, MacCready tried his best to look confident, even though he was feeling anything but.  
**

Adriana was eager to save Maggie, but the reality of the task before them was staggering. She had tried to warn them just how big the place was, but they were all so confident that all her cautions fell on deaf ears. Hancock listened to her, but she could tell that he was certain they could take on whatever they found there. She just hoped he was right, because she wasn't willing to lose him, or anyone else. She had to save Maggie, though, and if she didn't get there soon, there was no doubt in her mind that Maggie would be dead.

As they left the bar, he took her by the hand and when they came to a stop she was surprised to find herself in front of Daisy's shop. Hancock walked up to the counter and leaned across it, whispering something in the other ghoul's ear. Daisy gave him a knowing look before nodding and reaching below the counter. When her hand reappeared, it was holding one hell of a knife.

"Thought you could use a knife, doll. You're too damn good to not have one of your very own." Hancock smiled and the sweetness in it made her wonder about the young boy he must have once been.

"Thank you so much, John. I guess I can't always count on yours being in stealing proximity." She joked as she examined the knife, getting a feel for it. It's blade was wickedly curved and the polished wood of the hilt was marred, but no less beautiful for it. She wrapped her hand around the hilt, enjoying the smooth feel of it against her skin. _This will definitely do_.

"So you like it?" His eyes were large with anxiety and she was struck by the realization that maybe he was more vulnerable than he let on. There was a sweetness in his desire to please her that made her a little breathless.

"Of course I do. It's from you." Her smile started off innocent and morphed into something… bloodthirsty. "Plus, how could I not like something that's going to help me kill a bunch of slavers?"

She was rewarded by one of Hancock's deep, throaty chuckles. The familiar sound sent a shiver of delight down her spine.

"I'm not gonna lie, sunshine… I can't wait to see that." He took a step towards her, fire in his ebony eyes and she forgot to breathe again.

"Hate to break up the party," MacCready's voice broke through the moment, heavy as an anvil. "Dr. Amari and Kleo seem to have figured something out."

Hancock's body was mere inches from hers and she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He sighed loudly, followed by a small crooked grin that made Adriana's pulse quicken. _How does he make everything so… suggestive?_

"We're on our way," Hancock said to Mac, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke. One of his hands closed the small distance between them and with a feather light touch the backs of his fingers caressed her cheek bone, for just a moment. His touch was sweet, something she'd had so little of in the time she could remember and it's gentleness caused her eyes to sting. She wanted to throw herself into his embrace, to feel the reassuring press of his body on hers. She wanted to feel his lips, needy and burning… but they had a job to do. She tore her gaze from his. Every day that passed with Maggie still at the mercy of those bastards increased her anxiety ten fold. Adriana's gut twisted at the thought of what she was still enduring. _If she's even still alive_.

She wasn't allowed to follow that train of thought for long, because Hancock's fingers intertwined with hers. He squeezed her hand and her eyes snapped back to his with magnetic force. He winked cheekily and then began to pull her away from Daisy's, the proprietor wishing their retreating backs good luck with a friendly wave and a knowing smile.

Adriana allowed him to lead her to the Memory Den, silently reveling in the sensation of his skin against hers, her new knife clutched tightly in her other hand.

Dr. Amari and Kleo had devised a jamming device that was designed to stop anything in the vicinity from broadcasting. They hoped.

"Without one of the collars here, I can't give you a one hundred percent guarantee," Dr. Amari cautioned them, her eyebrows drawn together in worry. "The range of the device is decent, but for it to be as effective as possible you will need to use it in the most central location you can find, otherwise the device might not protect everyone."

As soon as the warning left Amari's lips, the solution formed in her mind, whole and terrifying. All the previous plans they had discussed counted on the device working from at least the perimeter of the quarry. She knew what had to be done, but just the thought of it left her insides quivering in fear. _Just think about Maggie._ She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and then released her hold on Hancock's hand.

"I have an idea."

Hancock tried to push his worries and doubts about their plan for tomorrow from his mind. They had all discussed it at length and he had been unanimously out voted, much to his dismay. He knew there was no changing anyone's minds, having already tried for hours. So instead, he climbed into bed with their favorite book, Adriana tucking herself tightly to his side, and began to read aloud.

As the immortal words of Shakespeare filled the room, he felt her slowly relax, lulled by the peace, the calm before the coming storm. Eventually that same peace found him as well and when Fahrenheit poked her head into the room to wake him long before dawn, he awoke with the heavy book strewn across his chest and Adriana snoring into his shoulder. It seemed almost impossible that such a picturesque morning could be the beginning to what was bound to be a bloody filled day, some of it probably even theirs. But this was Commonwealth. Life ended more quickly than it began here and, more often than not, in a haze of blood. He tried to shake of the feeling of impending doom that had made its home in the pit of his stomach, but even the sweet, sleepy smile Adriana directed at him did nothing to assuage his fears.

They got changed in the dark, their bags already packed, and headed to meet the rest of the group at the entrance to town. He stopped her hand on the knob of the State House, keeping her from pulling it open.

"Promise me you'll be careful." He wanted to take his words back when he heard the desperate waver in his voice.

"Only if you will," she said as she pulled the door open.

He had a feeling he would later regret not making that deal.

 _I should have made her promise,_ were the first words that came to mind when he saw the slaver's hand clamp down on Adriana's wrist. Followed closely by, _fuck_ and _god damn it._ He watched as she tried unsuccessfully to fight the men off, every nerve in his body longing to spring from his hiding spot. All the people Hancock had brought were scattered, heading to their predetermined hiding spots around the perimeter of Thicket Excavations.

The slavers could not have picked a better place to hole up. The quarry stretched deep down into the earth, much further than he had ever imagined. _She tried to tell us…_ He was worried that things were already starting to fall apart and as he watched the slavers drag Adriana away he felt sick to his stomach, but he had to keep it together, had to stick to the plan.

As soon as the coast was clear, he took off at a crouch, ducking behind rocks as he went, until he found MacCready, tucked away in his sniper's perch.

"Can you see her?!" He whispered urgently.

"I told you I'd keep her in my sights, didn't I? I'm doin' my job, now why don't you just worry about yours," Mac responded quietly, his eye never leaving his scope.

Hancock didn't even bother to respond, he just crept away, knowing the kid was right. _For once._ He found his assigned hiding spot, popped a couple of Mentats and then took the time to find her in the sights of his borrowed rifle. He didn't use a scoped weapon often, preferring instead to be in the thick of things, and it took him longer than he would have liked to finally locate her for himself. Seeing her didn't ease his worries though.

She was down at the bottom of the quarry, a little left of center, and two men were each holding one of her arms as another made his way towards her. When he realized the man was holding one of those horrific collars, time seemed to slow to crawl. He watched, in helpless horror, as the man closed in on her. At the last possible moment she raised one of her booted feet and slammed it into the calf of the man holding her right arm. He crumbled, releasing her arm and without missing a beat her hand shot down into her boot and pulled out the knife he had given her just yesterday. _Cocky assholes hadn't even checked her for weapons_.

He wished he could keep watching, but he had to hold up his end of the bargain, so he moved forward, farther down into the quarry.

He had almost reached his destination when the sound of detonating collars and the startled screams of those still living met his ears. His eyes went round in horror, his heart gripped with dread. _What the hell had gone wrong?!_


	6. Commonwealth Justice

Adriana struggled weakly against the men holding her arms, trying her best to act desperate and like they weren't playing straight into her hands. The collar the slaver was threatening her with didn't scare her, it enraged her. She would never have one of those things on her neck ever again. They just didn't know it yet. She forced a weak sounding whimper past her lips, biding her time and lulling them into a false sense of security. _Just a little closer…_ _NOW!_

She slammed her foot down into the shin of the man to her right. She aimed for the middle side of his shin and knew she'd hit her mark when she felt the bone snap. He fell with a pained howl, but she didn't have time to worry about him anymore. Reaching into her boot with her newly freed hand, she snatched her knife out of it. _Suckers._ Her arm swung up in an arch, burying her knife to the hilt in her other captor's gut. She twisted the knife before yanking it back out, the slaver dropping her left arm so he could try to dam the blood pouring from his wound. The man in front of her dropped the collar from his now shaking hands and reached into his pocket, fumbling around.

She was calm, certain in the knowledge that MacCready had her in his sights, and her hands were steady as she reached into the collar of her shirt with her left hand and pulled the jamming device out from it's hiding spot in her bra. With a smile, she pressed the button that activated the signal. The green light shined brightly, indicating the tech was operational. The stunned slaver before her shook himself and then smiled as he finally found what he had been searching for. He pushed a button of his own, both of them smiling, sure of their individual plans, but at the sound of exploding collars and terrified shrieks, both their smiles turned to looks of confusion. Hers because no one should have died and his because more should have died.

Fortunately she managed to push past her confusion first, darting forward to slit the throat of the murderer still standing in front of her. The confused look on his face only intensified as he realized her could no longer breathe, before turning to panic. She felt a hand on her arm, but before she could turn, the hand released her and when she whipped her head around to face her would-be assailant, she saw a shiny new bullet hole in the side of his head. _Thanks, Mac._

It was then that the rest of the calvary started making themselves known, drawing some of the attention away from her. She heard cries of terror as Kleo unleashed her laser, scorching everyone in her way with a single look from her fiery, mechanical eye. She could hear the loud rapport of shotgun fire, somewhere in the distance, and it brought a smile to her face which apparently terrified the slaver headed toward her. His eyes widened and he dropped his pistol, turning to run. It was too late, though. She stabbed him once, in his kidney, and he dropped, hard. She picked up his pistol and shoved it into the waistband of her pants before straightening and heading in the direction of the cell she and Maggie had shared. _Please be okay… I'm coming for you._

Adriana fought her way through the slavers, finding they weren't very scary without the looming threat of the collars. She reveled in their cries of pain with no remorse. The cell she had shared with the girl she thought of as a sister wasn't far and she reached it with little trouble. Her heart was pounding in anticipation as she got closer, until she heard a familiar voice break through the din of the fight.

"Sister! Sister, is that you?" Maggie's voice broke through all the noise around her and her vision narrowed to the sweet face pressed against the bars of her cage.

"I'm coming, Maggie! I'm here!" She cried, quickening her pace. She had almost reached her when one of the slavers stepped into her path, grinning savagely. He aimed his gun at her and the air filled with Maggie's terrified shriek. Adriana dropped to a crouch, the bullet whizzing harmlessly over her, before throwing herself bodily into her attacker. He fell backwards and she climbed on top of him, slamming the hilt of her knife down into his nose and then slitting his throat with no delay. She felt the warm spray of arterial blood on her face, but she paid it no heed, rising to step over his dying form and continuing toward her goal.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she reached through the bars of the cell to hug her sister, both of them desperate for the other's touch. They were both talking, her reassuring and Maggie incoherent with relief, but the words didn't matter. They were both alive and together, against all the odds. Adriana pulled away reluctantly, telling her sister to step as far back as she could. Once she had complied, Adriana pulled the pistol from her waistband and shot the lock off the door. She fumbled with the remains for a moment before pulling them free and yanking the door open as Maggie tumbled out into her waiting arms.

Adriana barely had the presence of mind to look around, to make sure their reunion wouldn't come to a tragic end, but the fight seemed to be dying down and as she caught a glimpse of Hancock's bright red frock she knew it was safe to celebrate.

"You came back for me! You're really here!" Maggie was sobbing into her shoulder, tiny body shaking from the force of her sobbing. Adriana just held on, her own tears gliding soundlessly down her face and her heart felt truly light for the first time.

Hancock pulled the trigger of his shotgun, splattering bits of skull and brain onto his coat. He stepped over the now-dead body and looked up just in time to see a girl run into Adriana's embrace. _Must be Maggie_ , he thought as he made his way closer, surveying the area between them for threats. No one was going to ruin their reunion, not if he had anything to say about it. He was almost to them when he stopped dead in his tracks. It all made sense. His heart filled with hope at the sight before him.

 _Maggie's a ghoul._

There was no mistaking it. She still had about half of her wavy brown hair, but her eyes were as dark as his and her skin just as scarred. He watched as Adriana pulled the young ghoul away from her shoulder so she could look into her eyes.

"You're safe. I will never let them hurt you again."

Hancock thought his heart would break. Maggie's eyes were so full of love and trust, her face transformed by the most brilliant smile he had ever seen. It was no wonder Adriana had been so hell bent on saving her. She exuded an air of sweetness that he could feel from where he stood, taking it all in. He already knew that he would defend her, shoulder to shoulder with Adriana, against any threat. There was something about her that just drew you in. Some indescribable force that made you want to make her smile. How anyone could have ever hurt her was beyond him.

"Thank you, sister," was all she said before dissolving into more relieved tears against Adriana's shoulder.

Hancock waited a few moments before closing the distance between him and them. Maggie raised her head as he approached, but Adriana smiled and she instantly relaxed, the trust between them enough to reassure her.

"Maggie, this is John. He's the one that helped me rescue you. Well, him and his town."

Hancock was completely unprepared for Maggie's response. She flung herself into his arms with no hesitation. He wrapped his arms around her slight frame, holding her as she cried her thanks into his chest. For once, he was at a loss for words. As grateful as she was to him, he felt as equally appreciative to her. He had no doubt in his mind that it was Maggie's friendship that had caused the instant trust Adriana had felt for him. All the humans she had met since stumbling out of the vault had treated her terribly, but this one sweet, tiny ghoul girl had loved her and that had paved the way for him.

"Thank you, John." He was struck by the uncharacteristic highness of her voice, clear as bell, lacking the usual grit the voice of a ghoul generally possessed.

"You're more than welcome, doll." He whispered into her hair as he held her close. He could feel Adriana's eyes on him and he raised his to meet them. The happiness in them could have knocked him over. She still had tears working their way down her cheeks, but the smile on her face was radiant and the love in her eyes overwhelming.

"Thank you," she mouthed the words silently and he held his arms out for her, too. She collapsed into his embrace and he held them both as tight as he could, wishing he could keep them safe forever.

As the fight died down, MacCready kept a watchful eye on his two charges. He saw Adriana shoot open a cell and he decided to keep a watch out around her, so no one could sneak up on her. As he was scanning the area, Hancock caught his eye and he realized the ghoul was looking out for his girl, freeing him to look out for the mayor. _So far, so good._

It wasn't long after that he decided the fight was all but over and it was safe for him to come down from his hiding spot. He leaned back, removing his eye from his scope for the first time since Adriana had been voluntarily captured. It was a huge relief to know that both of them had come out of the fight without so much of a scratch. He took a deep breath, stretching his arms, trying to release some of the tension from between his shoulder blades before standing up. He climbed out of his perch and began to make his way down into the depths of the quarry. He could hear people rattling the doors of their cages, but he wasn't going to let anyone out until he spoke with Hancock. He had to make sure all the slavers were dead. He would be furious with himself if he released someone, only for them to get killed by a missed slaver.

When he finally reached the bottom he headed for the red of Hancock's coat, unmistakable even from a distance. He realized the ghoul was holding not one, but two women in his capable arms. As MacCready watched, the unknown woman turned to face him. Tears were running from her pitch black eyes, but the smile on her face shone like a beacon. It drew him in and seemed to light up all the dark spaces inside him, simultaneously relieving and terrifying. He couldn't breathe under the weight of her gaze and his steps faltered.

"Hey, RJ!" Adriana's voice broke through and he inhaled hugely. "Thanks for the save back there!"

He forced his legs to carry him closer.

"Anytime, Adriana." As he spoke his friend's name, the other woman's eyes turned from him.

"Adriana?" Her voice was sweet and high. He was both relieved and dismayed to be out from under the weight of her regard. At least he had a moment to study her, while her attention was distracted. She was younger than he had initially thought and small. He wondered when she had become a ghoul, only because he hadn't seen one as young as she before.

She still had hair on one side and it was long, falling in waves down to her shoulder. She was too thin, but that was to be expected, given the circumstances. The top of her head only came to Hancock's shoulder, but there was something big about her personality. Her eyes, though dark, were warm and expressive. MacCready wasn't used to feeling overly protective, Duncan being the only exception, but something about her inspired the feeling inside him. It was only when the girl's eyes focused back on him that he realized he hadn't been listening and, apparently, everyone was waiting on a response of some kind from him.

"Huh?" He looked to Hancock for help and was confused to see a mix of surprise and understanding in his friend's eyes.

"The ladies were just thanking you for your superior sniping skills, Mac."

"Oh? No problem at all. Happy to help," he managed to choke out. Luckily, at that point some of the Neighborhood Watch approached, a group of slavers between them held at gunpoint.

"What should we do with these assholes?"

"I think I have an idea…"

The tone in Hancock's voice was chilling and the slavers at least had sense enough to start babbling in terror.

Adriana sent Maggie up top with MacCready, not wanting her to see what they had in mind. Even after everything she had been through, which was more than anyone should have to endure, Maggie had managed to hold on to an air of innocence and Adriana knew she would be upset if she saw what was about to happen. RJ had agreed with no complaint, taking the ghoul girl's hand in his and tucking it through his arm in a surprising and touching show of chivalry.

"You know where we can find the controls to their damn collars?" Hancock asked quietly. Adriana didn't answer, she just turned and made her way back to the body of the slaver that she knew had one on him. She pried the tech from his dead fingers and picked up the collar he had threatened her with. Making her way back to Hancock, she examined the device in her hand, finding the release button and pressing it. She smiled, hearing the exclamations of relief all through the quarry. Hancock cleared his throat, preparing to address the former slaves, but then he stopped himself and turned to her.

"This is your show, sunshine…" he stepped back with a sweep of his arm and she stepped forward after only a moment of hesitation, taking a deep breath.

"You're free now." The stone walls surrounding them carried her echoing voice to the ears of all the people filling the cages and a deafening cheer rose up, accented by relieved tears. "We're going to deal with the remaining slavers…" she had to stop under the loud roar of people calling for bloody retribution. She didn't bother to say anything else, she just held the collar in her hands up for all to see, unsurprised by the cheers of approval that met her ears. She made her way towards the slavers, slow and menacing. One of them tried to bolt, but the men of the Neighborhood Watch were faster. They held him still while she affixed the collar meant for herself around his neck, empty threats burning his lips. She just smiled cruelly.

Hancock appeared at her side, hands full of collars for the rest of their captives. There would be no mercy on this day. _You never showed us any_.

After all the slavers had been gifted with their very own collars, Adriana turned off their jamming device, tossing it to Kleo.

"Go get 'em, baby." Kleo encouraged, but Adriana didn't need it.

She nodded and the Neighborhood Watch released the captives. A few of them just sat down, the weight of their inevitable demise too heavy on their shoulders, while others ran or tried to fight, according to their natures. She let them go until their panic had reached a fever pitch and then pressed the button. Brain and blood went everywhere as the now lifeless bodies dropped to the ground, like marionettes with their strings suddenly severed.

She looked to Hancock in the aftermath, pleased to see the same savage joy on his handsome face. Their eyes met and his grin grew wider as he held his arms open for her. She threw herself into his warmth, laughing in gruesome delight.

"Now that's Commonwealth justice at its finest! Your reckless plan worked, sunshine. Couldn't've done better myself. Now we just have to figure out what we're gonna do with all these people. I doubt Goodneighbor has enough room…" He looked worried and Adriana was once again hit by the depth of his ability to care for others.

She had never even thought about what all these people would do once she released them, hadn't realized that by saving them, they had become her responsibility.

"You know what," she started, surprised that she might have a solution, " I think I might know a place. I didn't get more than a glimpse of it, but from what I saw, there was an abandoned neighborhood somewhere around here. The vault I came out of is near it."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll send a scout, see if we can locate it."

By the time they had reached the old pre-war neighborhood, the sun had set and Hancock could tell Adriana's new mantle of leadership was weighing her down. She had taken the deaths of the captives not in range of the jammer hard, sobbing harshly into his chest in the few moments of privacy they had managed to snatch, before shoving the pain back down and doing what needed to be done. As the people that had chosen to come with them, instead of trying to make their own way, started across the wooden bridge, Hancock grabbed her arm gently. These people might be her responsibility, but his would always be her.

"Why don't the four of us bed down in the old Red Rocket we just passed? You got them here. They can all find a place to sleep for the night on their own."

He could tell she wanted to agree, but knew she was about to decline when MacCready stepped forward.

"How about I take the settlers in and get them set up? You three go on back and I'll be there soon."

"You sure, RJ?" Adriana's shoulders sagged from relief even as she asked.

"Yeah, I got it. You just get Maggie someplace where she can lay down. It's been a long day." The kid smiled at them before turning and heading across the bridge.

"You heard him, let's get going." Hancock said, looking to the girls. Maggie was practically sleeping on her feet, eyes closed, slim body tucked up under Adriana's arm. He looked questioningly at the girl and Adriana nodded, allowing him to take her sister's tiny frame in his arms. Her eyes fluttered open, but when they found his staring down at her she relaxed into his embrace without question. Adriana smiled over at them and as the three made their way back down the cracked pavement, Hancock was reminded of long ago, when he'd once had a loving family. It occurred to him that maybe he'd finally found one again. He felt Adriana's hand on his back and sighed happily. _Yeah, a ghoul could definitely get used to this._


	7. Born of Ice

When Hancock woke, he was surprised by the empty space at his side. Maggie wasn't far away, having slept on Adriana's other side, but this was the first time he had woken without Adriana snoring, or drooling, into his shoulder and it left him feeling… hollow. _She's probably just going to the bathroom or getting breakfast._ He tried to shrug off his feelings of unease, reaching into his bag and pulling out his book and a tin of Mentats, settling in to wait for her to come back. He flipped open the tin and popped a couple of the chalky tasting pills into his mouth, letting them dissolve on his tongue as he flipped to the page he had marked with a slip of paper, only to see that his bookmark had… changed. _Surely the Mentats aren't that good…_ There was a poem written in flowing cursive, signed with only a single letter inside a heart. A. "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." He could feel tears stinging his eyes as he remembered reading this to Adriana from his collection of Shakespeare's works. _Surely she doesn't mean…_ but then he turned the bookmark over.

She had sketched out a rough picture of him, the sun shining on his sleeping face, hat slightly askew and a smile tugging up one of the corners of his mouth. She had completely captured his likeness, not sparing one scar or rough patch, but as he stared down at it, the realized dawned on him that this was the first time he had ever seen himself without flinching and looking away. The tears that had been threatening became reality when he realized the gift she had given him. His hands shook as he held the paper reverently in his hands. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him and he had to find her. Now. He didn't deserve someone like her, but maybe if he tried hard enough he would one day.

He put the little piece of paper back in between the pages of his book and stood up, careful not to disturb Maggie's sleeping form as he slipped past. He didn't even bother to grab his coat, just tucked the paperback book into his back pocket and walked out of the gas station's former office. MacCready was slouched down in a chair, feet propped up on a metal cabinet with his cap pulled low over his eyes. At the sound of Hancock's near silent footsteps, Mac's hand shot out to grab his rifle, but then he relaxed again as he realized who it was.

"She went out about an hour ago. Sounded like she went north."

"Thanks, Mac." The young man only grunted sleepily in response, drifting back off.

 _Wonder where she went?_

Hancock headed out, seeing her boot prints in the the damp ground. There were a second set of prints in the mud next to hers, that of an animal. His pulse quickened, worried that maybe she had been attacked, but as he looked closer he realized the prints were next to hers, like the animal was walking beside her. _That's weird._ Either way, he picked up his pace. She seemed to have avoided the neighborhood, giving it a wide berth. When he realized she had left, he had assumed she had gone to check on the settlers, but that didn't seem to be the case.

When he finally found her, all the words he had planned on saying flew from his mind. She had found the Vault. He knew the minute he saw it what it was, even though he had never seen a Vault that opened the way this one did Vault-Tec construction was unmistakable. She was sitting in the middle of the gear-shaped metal slab, a dog sitting calmly beside her.

"Mornin' sunshine."

"I knew you'd be along before too long." She didn't turn to face him, but he could see her shoulders relax and it made him happy to see the effect just his presence had on her. "I didn't want to go in alone."

"You're not alone. You seem to have made a new friend." She laughed, reaching out to scratch the dog behind its ears.

"Let me rephrase, I didn't want to go in without you."

"You know I'll go anywhere with you, doll." He said as he smiled, sitting down beside her and copying her posture, arms wrapped around bent knees. She turned to look at him, head cocked, rocking to nudge his shoulder with hers.

"You've never given me a reason to doubt you, John. I didn't really look around when I woke up down there, so I'm not sure what we'll find."

"Answers?" His voice was soft as it occurred to him that maybe they wouldn't like the answers, that maybe they should be left to decompose in their unconventional crypt. He could feel the book in his pocket pressing into him and he thought about the treasure it held safe between its pages. He wanted to bring it up, tell her that if his mind was enough to turn a blind eye to the rest of him then he wouldn't argue. He wasn't strong enough to turn her down, but he also wasn't selfish enough to ask her to make that decision before she had all the facts. Who knew what they would find inside the vault?

"Maybe," she sighed, the sound laden with unspoken fears. "Honestly, I don't know that I want any. What difference could it possibly make? Everyone in that vault is dead."

"You don't feel like you're missin' anything?"

"Not anymore."

Hancock's resolve almost shattered as she beamed at him. He reached over, taking one of her hands in his and squeezing it gently before hopping to his feet, pulling her up with him.

"Let's get this over with then, doll."

He left her standing on the lift and went to the little trailer she indicated to push the button that would send them down into the depths of the vault. As he walked away, he could hear her telling the dog to wait up top for them and its whine of displeasure in response.

He felt a moment of trepidation, but squared his shoulders and then slammed his fist into the button anyway. He could hear the rusty screech of metal on metal as he jogged back to the platform. He wrapped an arm around Adriana's shoulders as the lift lurched to life beneath their feet, drawing them into the earth's cool embrace.

Vault 111 was just as devoid of life as she had described. The only sounds in evidence were the mechanical rumblings of the vault's life support system and the occasional sound of a scurrying radroach. They made a cursory round of the vault and Hancock looked around confused. When she asked him what was wrong he held out his arms, gesturing broadly.

"Where's the rest of it? And what's up with the loungers? It's like these people never got out of them at all."

"You're right…" He watched as she cast her gaze about. There weren't anywhere near enough beds for all the people that were housed in the vault. She watched as he walked over to the terminal mounted on the wall of the room she had woken up in. His fingers trembled as he began typing. She came up beside him, watching as his eyes scanned the text on the screen. What he was reading was incredible. And awful. He knew about some of the fucked up shit Vault-Tec had pulled, but this was… despicable. He could feel his eyes going wider and wider until he reached the part about Adriana, or should he say Nora?

 _She's married… WITH A KID._ He knew she was too good to be true. His heart was shattering, but that's when he read that her husband- Nate- was "expired". That's when he realized what a shitty person he was. How could he be happy that her husband was dead? What kind of awful person was he?

"What is it Hancock? What's it say? You're making me nervous." Her fingers dug into his wrist, eyes pleading. _And now I have to tell her._ He took a deep breath before turning to meet her eyes.

"That bad, eh?" Her nervous laughter filled the air as he tried to find the words.

Adriana thought she was going to be sick. What Vault-Tec had done to them was… disgusting. They had all been tricked. She was trying to focus on that, not on the husband she'd had but couldn't recall in the least, but Hancock had saved the worst for last it seemed.

"It says here that you also… had a son."

The world was spinning and she thought she was going to pass out until she felt Hancock's strong hands on her arms, holding her up, grounding her.

"A son?" She didn't recognize the small, whispery sound as her voice.

"He was supposed to be in the same 'cryo-pod' as your, uh, husband."

And then her feet were moving, carrying her towards the pod where her life had begun… this one anyway.

She was peering into the pods, looking at the lifeless bodies of people Nora could have named, but who were nothing more than strangers to Adriana. She couldn't even pick out which man was Nora's husband until Hancock came to a stop next to him. Adriana pressed her nose to the glass and stared at the man who she must have loved in another life, feeling nothing but confusion. He hadn't died the same way that everyone else had, a bullet wound standing out in bloody defiance on his temple.

"Where's your kid?" Hancock's words took a minute to mean anything to her, but once they registered she turned to him, eyes large, pleading.

"I don't have a kid, John." The words had the hint of a question in them as she searched his face. "Nora had a kid and a husband, but me? I just have Maggie… and you?"

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and she sank into his chest, twisting her hands into the loose fabric of his ruffled shirt.

"You can have me for as long as ya like, sunshine."

She smiled, pressing herself as close as she could get. He had been a bright spot in the darkness since that very first night, so she didn't know why she had expected any less.

"That's just what I wanted to hear."

She wondered vaguely if he had found her gift yet. She had been so nervous this morning, waking up early to exchange the scrap of paper that kept his place in his latest book with the one covered in her declaration of love. She wondered if he would realize, and accept, what it truly meant. Maybe all of this should have changed things in some way, but it hadn't, not for her, at least. Maybe once upon a time she had been Nora, but not now. She wasn't some pre-war housewife. Born of ice, honed in the fires of this new world, she was Commonwealth to the core and she wouldn't have had it any other way.

Hancock pulled her from the frozen body of another woman's husband and as they left the way they had come she didn't look back.

When they got back up to the entrance, Hancock's steps slowed and came to a stop.

"At least we know now why you're such a badass!"

Adriana laughed. That was one thing she would always be grateful to Nora for. She had been special ops before getting married. Adriana could not imagine why she would have left all of that, but the most recent information the vault had on her was that she had been a stay at home mother. Regardless, Adriana was just glad she had gotten to keep that part of her former life.

She was bothered by the gunshot wound and the missing infant, but she didn't feel the grief of a widow or a mother missing her child. It was more like when you hear of something terrible happening to a stranger, you feel sad for them, but then it passes. Whatever had become of the baby was out of her hands. Who knew how long it had been? She had been asleep for over two hundred years. She knew she was just rationalizing, but that didn't make it any less true. Where would I even begin?

"That's true. One mystery solved."

"You know, doll, if you wanna try and solve a few more…" his eyes were large with concern under the brim of his ridiculous hat and Adriana loved him even more for it.

"I don't. I already have everything I need."

She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly, giving him plenty of time to pull away. He didn't though, and his hands found their way to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as if he were afraid she would disappear if he didn't hold on tight. When his lips met hers, it wasn't like their last kiss. It was tender, delicate, like he wasn't sure if she would melt beneath his heat. Her hands slid down into his shirt and she pulled him closer, desperate. A moan escaped his lips and one of his hands moved up to cradle the back of her head. His tongue found hers and it was like a dam bursting, his desire spilling through all the cracks of his shattered control. A low growl rumbled in his chest as his lips crushed against hers, nipping as gently as could be managed.

Adriana found herself pressed between the cold metal of the vault wall and Hancock's burning flesh. She squirmed beneath his touch, all the while trying to pull him closer. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She was lost in his touch, in the knowledge that even if he didn't know yet how she felt, he obviously shared her feelings. He pulled away then, just enough so that he could whisper a few words against her waiting lips.

"I love you, too."

Time stopped as she looked into his fathomless eyes. It wasn't until he leaned his forehead against hers that she remembered to breath. She clung to him, trying to force her lungs to work, unable to grasp the reality of the moment. _He loves me, too?_ She supposed she should feel like she had lost a lot, a husband, a baby, an entire life, really. Instead all she could think about was what she had gained.

 _Now I know all that karma stuff is bull…_ he knew he hadn't done anything to deserve this beautiful creature before him, trembling in his arms. He did know that he would do anything to keep her safe, happy, and it occurred to him that maybe that was the answer. Maybe this had nothing to do with his karma. Maybe he was what she deserved, not the other way around, because he knew no one could love her more than he did. He would die for her and consider it a bargain. No one could love her better, he was sure of it. When he thought about it that way, it made it easier to accept. She had been through hell and if he was what she needed now, he'd accept the role gladly.

He raised a hand to stroke her cheek, noticing in surprise that she wasn't the only one shaking.

"So you found it?"

He just nodded and she sighed, smiling in relief.

"That's why I came looking for you."

He pulled away from her, reluctantly. They needed to get back to Maggie before she woke up all alone. Adriana was obviously thinking the same thing as she reached for his hand and allowed him to pull her towards the exit.

As unhappy as he was that they had responsibilities to take care of, he found that he couldn't wait to get back to the surface. Adriana picked up an old Pip-Boy, using it to start the lift, and then went to drop it back down onto the ground.

"You should keep that, doll. It might come in handy."

"Really?" She shrugged, looking at it dubiously. "If you say so."

He watched as she slipped her skinny wrist into the device and closed the latches. He laughed at the look she gave him, but he was pleased she had taken his advice.

"This thing better be awesome, cause it's uncomfortable as hell." She grumbled as he pulled her toward the lift.

Laughter was his only response as the lift groaned back to life under their feet.

 _Where am I?_ Maggie was afraid to open her eyes, lest the feeling of soft blankets beneath her were just the remnants of a rare good dream. It had been so long since she had been even remotely comfortable and she wanted to enjoy the feeling for as long as possible. She stretched hugely, yawning, only to hear the surprised grunt of someone nearby.

Her eyes flew open and she realized that not only was she not where she thought she was, but there was a man sitting in the doorway. She started to scramble away from him, but stopped as the memories from the day before began to filter through her sleep fogged brain. _He helped save me._ That thought gave birth to a bigger realization… _I'm saved._ Her eyes filled with tears and she still couldn't believe that sister had come back for her.

"Hey, there's no need for tears. I'm not gonna hurt you." His voice was hesitant, but the concern in his eyes was evident and it only made her cry harder. No one ever looked at her like that, not since she had been a child, and it really drove home how drastically her lot in life had changed in just one day.

"I know you're not. That's why I'm crying." She managed to choke out between sobs, the look in his eyes softening with understanding. He held his arms open, just a little. It was enough of an invitation to send her careening into his chest, almost knocking him. He somehow managed to stay upright and as she cried into his chest she felt his arms wrap around her. He stroked her hair, rocking her slightly as he made soothing sounds. It was sweet and comforting, things she hadn't known for such a long time.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into him when her tears subsided enough that she could manage to speak.

"I don't blame ya one bit."

They sat in silence for a bit, him still rocking back and forth as she clung to his thin frame. When she finally had herself together she leaned back and smile shyly.

"Where's sis- I mean Adriana?"

"She and Hancock stepped out earlier. That's why I was sitting in the doorway. I didn't want you to wake up alone. Sorry if I... " he shrugged, shaking his head, but she didn't need his words. She understood.

"I'm glad you were here."

The smile she received in response was small, just one corner of his mouth turning up, but his eyes were a different story. They came to life, their blue depths sparkling, and it made her so happy that her words had been the cause. She was already making it her personal goal to get as many of those looks as possible when they heard the sound of a dog barking.

MacCready's response was immediate, standing up and reaching for his gun with one hand, the other arm pulling her up with him, before he stepped in front of her to assess the danger. Her fingers clung to the worn fabric of his duster as she stood in the safety of his shadow until they heard the familiar voices of Hancock and Adriana laughing as they approached. MacCready lowered his gun and turned to her.

"Must be safe," he told her confidently.

She just smiled, realizing that she had never felt safer than she did while standing in his narrow shadow.


	8. Homecoming

The sounds of struggling footsteps and labored breathing met Adriana's ears and she immediately motioned the others to be silent. She and Hancock had just gotten back to the Red Rocket, to find Maggie already awake. _At least Mac was here_ … Adriana was surprised by RJ's sweetness toward Maggie, but was too grateful for it to bring it up and risk him distancing himself. Maggie was going to need all the friends she could get, and frankly, so did she.

The dog started to growl, the sound barely more than a rumble in the back of the german shepard's throat. Adriana motioned for him to be quiet and he obeyed instantly, but not without giving her a look that clearly communicated his displeasure.

"Stay here with Mac and Maggie," she whispered to the dog, who immediately moved in front of his charges. She smiled slightly at the sight before looking to Hancock and jerking her head in the direction of the door. Shotgun in hand, he fell in step behind her as she reached for her knife. As they made their way outside, the cause of the sounds came into view.

Two men were struggling to stay upright on the uneven pavement. It was hard to say who was supporting who, because they both seemed perilously unsteady. She and Hancock exchanged looks before she tucked her knife back into her boot, trusting him to watch her back.

"You fellas need some help?" Her voice carried easily as she took a few steps in their direction. Their heads snapped up in unison and it was clear that they desperately wanted to say yes, but couldn't quite bring themselves to. "If I wanted you dead, you would be. Doesn't look like you'd put up too much of a fight right now."

The taller one laughed ruefully, shaking his head.

"Well, if that ain't the sad truth… Yes, we'd appreciate some help if you've got it to give."

Adriana and Hancock made their way up to the two men, introducing themselves when they got close.

"Sure is nice to meet you folks. I'm Sturges and this here's Preston. We ran into some Raider trouble back in Concord that only went downhill from there."

Adriana looked them over and what she saw made her fight to keep a neutral expression. She didn't think a human was responsible for the bulk of their wounds. The dark skinned man, Preston, had several deep gashes in his left thigh that looked like they had been made by claws. Disturbingly large claws. Blood was still seeping from the ravaged flesh and Adriana could see why they were having so much trouble standing. Hancock reached for Preston and as soon as he took the man's weight from Sturges, the other almost fell flat on his face. It seemed like his only motivation for staying upright had been to see his friend to safety and now that he had accomplished his mission, he no longer had the strength to carry on. Adriana's hands shot out, catching him before he could sustain any more injuries, amazed he had made it to them at all. She hadn't been able to see his side, blocked as it had been by the other man, but now she could see the wound clearly. Whatever had gotten Preston, had gotten him, too. She could clearly see the man's ribs through his tattered flesh. She was afraid she was hurting him, but she had to get him inside where they could treat him.

She heard Hancock shouting for MacCready as he neared the door, holding up the barely conscious Preston. When Mac came running out to help, Hancock pointed back to where she was struggling to help Sturges walk. Between the two of them they were able to get the taller man into the relative safety of the old gas station, laying him down next to Preston in the room they had used to sleep in. Sturges reached over for the other man's hand, sighing when he found what he sought, intertwining their fingers.

"Maggie, I need you to get me the water. Mac, get all the meds we have. Hancock, help me get their clothes back so we can see what we're working with."

Everyone scattered to do as they were bid, MacCready grumbling something about how expensive supplies were under his breath, but before Adriana got to work herself she pried at the clasps of the computer around her left arm.

"Can't do it, Hancock! This damn thing reminds me too much of that fucking collar." She sighed in relief as she pulled her arm free, tossing the device into Hancock's bag.

"I'm sorry, doll. I hadn't even…" the contrite tone to his voice made her curse internally. "I get it."

"How could you have known? No harm done, love." She reached over, stroking his cheek affectionately, before stooping down next to Sturges to peel the tattered remains of his clothing from his wounds. She looked away, giving Hancock a moment to recover, because she was pretty sure that if a ghoul could blush, that's exactly what he would have been doing.

"Love…" he said under his breath with a chuckle before crouching down to tend to Preston. "Gonna take some time to get used to that."

"Take all the time you need… love."

Hancock was pretty sure both of the men were physically going to make it, but Preston still wasn't talking. He hadn't uttered a single sound, even when they had cleaned and stitched the gaping wounds in his thigh. Sturges was clearly worried, but there wasn't much they could do besides wait and hope that once he had rested, he would be ready to talk.

After their impromptu guests were made as comfortable as a possible, they decided it was past time to check in with the former slaves. They would take it in shifts to stay with the injured and he volunteered to take the first one. He was used to being in charge, but this wasn't his show and he didn't want to accidentally switch into mayor mode and take over. He had already sent his people home, that way Fahrenheit would know they had been successful, and that left his girl firmly in charge.

Adriana kissed him once, lingeringly, and the sweetness of it stole his breath. He wanted to forget all their responsibilities and just get lost in the intoxicating experience of her. _Love._ It felt both impossible and inevitable when he thought about it. He could do nothing less than love the amazing creature that was discovering herself right in front of his very eyes. She was other-wordly. Caring and killing with equal passion, she was righteous fury with a knife, but the embodiment of tenderness in the next breath. She never missed a beat.

A terrified scream shattered his love-struck musings, sending him running for the back room where he had left the men to rest. He flung the door open, almost hitting a panic stricken Preston. Sturges was doing his best to calm the other man, hands outstretched, but not actually making contact in anyway, soothing sounds pouring from his lips in blatant worry. Hancock took a step back, dropping low to sit on his haunches. This wasn't his first time dealing with someone who was obviously traumatized, it came with the territory. Once he stopped screaming Hancock made eye contact and smiled in as friendly a manner as he could manage.

"Preston? You're safe." Was all he said. He watched as tears began to pour down his face. He tried to speak, but it took several tries before he managed to choke the words out.

"I don't deserve to be… I let them all down…" and then he dissolved in tears again, pushing away Sturges' as he tried to comfort him.

Hancock cocked his head in question and Sturges shook his head, mouthing the word later.

"I am sure you did everything you could. Can I get you to take a deep breath for me?" Hancock was worried the guy was going to hyperventilate if they didn't do something to help him get some of his control back.

It was a long process getting Preston relaxed enough that he could get back to sleep, but eventually, between the two of them, they had managed. Once he was snoring, Sturges found his way to his feet, grimacing, but waving off Hancock's offer of help. He stepped carefully over Preston's prone body, a sad, sweet little smile on his face as he looked down. It was that smile, more than anything else, that really clued Hancock in to how it was between the two men. It wasn't that he cared in any way, but it was good to have all the pieces when you're reassembling a puzzle.

Sturges followed him outside, moving stiffly but making it all the way on his own power. Hancock motioned towards a rusted metal chair, looking away as Sturges lowered his abused body into with a groan.

"What the hell happened to you guys? Besides the Deathclaw, that is? Which, if you want my opinion, is more than enough to give a man nightmares."

"The Deathclaw was just the final straw." His weary sigh spoke volumes and Hancock listened in growing horror to the string of unfortunate events that found the two men here. They had started in Quincy, Preston trying to take a group of twenty some place safe. Safety, the rarest commodity in the Commonwealth, had unfortunately eluded them. Preston had lost person after person before finally arriving in Concord. By that point there were only three other people still living. They thought they were finally safe, but it hadn't taken long for that particular illusion to be shattered in the form of Raiders. There had been so many. They tried to bring a suit of power armor back to life, but none of them could get past the locked gate through which they could see a fusion core humming away merrily. Sturges hung his head.

"I tried to hack the terminal, but I failed and it locked us out. We tried to save the others, but it was a bloodbath. We managed to escape the museum we had holed up in, but we knew there was no hope. That was when we heard it. The roar of a Deathclaw. Luckily, it wasn't full grown, but it was certainly big enough. It decimated most of the Raiders and almost took us out, too. We managed to get back up to the roof of the building and used the minigun attached to a wrecked vertibird to finally finish it off. If any of the Raiders survived, they didn't stick around to hassle us. We had already used up all our supplies, so there wasn't any reason to stick around. We just headed off in a random direction and, well, I guess you know the rest. We'd probably be dead now if it weren't for you and your friends."

Hancock knew the desperation of imminent demise, had felt it more times than he cared to admit, but it wasn't near as soul crushing as surviving when the people in your care didn't. He knew how heavy the yolk of leadership was, how it could feel like a noose and how, sometimes, you would wish for a noose when you failed the people who were counting on you. He understood why Preston was as haunted as he was, how could he not be? It would take time and distraction, in Hancock's experience. A lot of time and distraction.

A world weary sigh escaped his withered lips as he removed his hat, using his other hand scratch his scalp. It didn't matter how many times he heard stories like this, they always affected him. He wished Goodneighbor was bigger, that he had room behind his walls to keep them all safe. It was naive, he knew, but a ghoul could dream, right?

The next couple of weeks passed quickly as they rebuilt Sanctuary into a town that the former slaves could be proud to call home. The only big upset had happened that first day when Adriana had walked in to Sanctuary for the first time. Apparently, Nora's Mr. Handy was still alive and defending her home vehemently against any intrusions. It looked like the thing was about to torch a few of the disgruntled settlers when Adriana strolled up.

The Mr. Handy swiveled one eye stalk around at the sound of her light tread and nearly fell out of its hover.

"As I live and breath! It's… It's really you!"

Adriana had tried to tell the stubborn thing that she was not Nora, that she had no memory of him or anything else from before the bombs, but he would hear none of it. He refused to call her anything other than Nora, no matter how many times she explained the situation. Eventually she just assigned him a job well out of the way and avoided him altogether.

Sturges' arrival had been fortuitous, for everyone involved, since he was the only one among them all that knew how to make anything. He could construct everything from beds to generators and water purifiers. Adriana worked closely with him, hoping some of his ability to turn scrap into useful items would rub off on her. She would love to be able to teach these things to other people around the Commonwealth.

They had constructed a common house for the settlers, no one wanting to sleep alone after the hell they had all endured. Adriana couldn't blame them at all, having not spent a single night alone yet, herself and she honestly found it endearing that all their beds were clumped closely together on the second floor. She knew that would change eventually, these people were strong and they would move past the terrible things that had happened to them. She didn't remember what life had been like before the war, but she knew the people that lived now were survivors and she loved them all for it.

Jobs had been assigned to the settlers and the little town had been surrounded with walls made from the scrap of the ruined houses they had torn down. They had even planted crops, but there was still one department that had made no improvement. Preston was still not talking. Try as Sturges might, he could not get him to say anything and the guy was barely eating or drinking. His wounds had healed enough that he could technically get up, but he refused. Adriana knew that Hancock was eager to get back to Goodneighbor and she honestly shared his feelings on the matter, but she didn't want to leave until Preston was at least talking.

Oddly enough, the matter resolved itself without any intervention on Adriana's part. Maggie had taken to sitting with the minuteman, not speaking, just mending clothing or making squares for quilting out of garments that were too far gone. Adriana went to check on the pair one afternoon, bringing them some food and water fresh from the purifier when she heard an unfamiliar voice on the other side of the door. She started, worried, but then she realized the voice belonged to Preston. She placed the food on the metal cabinet across from the door and slipped out as quietly as possible. Maggie never did say what she had done to get the man to open up and when asked, she only smiled, waving her hand in dismissal saying, "I just happened to be the one there when he was ready."

With Preston finally moved into the town, and more specifically into the same house as Sturges, Adriana was confident that the town was as ready for their departure as it would ever be. The Minuteman had agreed to train the settlers that were assigned to guard duty and he could be seen patrolling the perimeter at regular intervals.

Sturges wasn't surprised that they were ready to head home, promising to keep a close eye on the settlers and handing them a sack filled with more supplies than the four of them could possibly need on the trip. She tried to decline the generous offer, but there was no swaying him. With promises to visit as often as possible, they made their way to the gate. The settlers all stopped their tasks as the walked past to give them words of thanks and well wishes for their trip back to Goodneighbor. Adriana was having a hard time keeping her tears at bay and lost the battle altogether when Preston hugged her. It was such a relief to see him smiling. It was a good look on him. He turned to Maggie, wrapping her in a bear hug and whispering something into her ear before letting her go.

"Don't worry, Pres. You got this." Maggie said as she squeezed his hand, one of her blinding smiles hitting him full force and not even he could argue with that.

Hancock and he shared a manly embrace, more back pounding than anything, while Mac just lifted his chin in the barest acknowledgement of a goodbye. Preston didn't take offense though, just returned the gesture, good natured smile at home on his handsome face.

The next morning they headed out at first light, sad to leave good friends, but eager to be off. Adriana had told Maggie about Goodneighbor and could tell she was excited to see the place for herself. As they set off, Maggie linked her arm through Adriana's, smiling from ear to ear.

It wasn't long before MacCready suggested that they use the trip to begin teaching Maggie how to defend herself and took it upon himself to teach her the finer points of using a rifle. Adriana was no longer surprised by his gentle nature with Maggie, but no less appreciative of it. He was patient with her, explaining the different parts of the weapon and how it compared to the pistol that Adriana still wore stuffed into the waist of her pants. _I need to find myself a holster…_ When MacCready decided it was time for her to try shooting the weapon, he helped her hold it correctly, blushing brightly as he wrapped his arms around her to correct her stance. It took all of Adriana's self-control not to burst out in hysterical laughter, the kid was as red as Hancock's frock. She made the mistake of glancing over at her man, to find that he was suffering similarly. All it took was that second of eye contact to make them both lose it, bent over in near silent gasps of laughter. MacCready shot them the dirtiest of looks, but that only made them laugh harder, trying to told each other up and barely succeeding. Luckily, Maggie just looked over at them in confusion and shrugged it off.

By the time the neon lights of Goodneighbor appeared in the distance they were all tired, but their excitement hadn't diminished in the least. Adriana threaded her fingers through Hancock's as they hurried their steps and, for the second time, Hancock opened the door to Goodneighbor for her and damn if it didn't feel like coming home.


	9. Find the Silver Lining

Adriana stretched, opening her eyes to see Hancock's pitch black ones staring back. His patented smirk was already firmly in place as she felt her own mouth stretching into a smile in return. Without an ounce of hesitation she rolled into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his slender waist. His eyes went round and as she pressed herself against him she knew why instantly. _Someone is having less than pure thoughts…_ She giggled, squirming against him, and was rewarded by a choked moan as his hands found her hips. His fingers dug into her, pulling her even closer and it was her turn to gasp in pleasure. She knew without a doubt that she was ready for a more physical relationship than they currently had. She trusted him completely and knew that he would never take anything from her that she wasn't willing to give. She hadn't thought she would ever want to feel another man's hands on her, but he wasn't just a man.  
Judging by the heat she could feel rushing to where his hardness was rubbing against her, she was more than ready. Hancock brought his lips to her ear and the warmth of his breath combined with the slight roughness of his skin, sending shivers of desire down her spine.

"Does this mean what I think it does, love?" She could tell that he was trying not to sound too excited, but his eyes, large and hopeful, gave him away. She rolled her hips against him, biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning.

"Yes," she whispered, nodding.

His mouth crushed against hers, his tongue finding hers and she felt like she was on fire, melting in his arms. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe and she'd never been happier. One of his hands found its way to the base of her skull and the other slipped into the waist of her jeans just as they felt the mattress move, a sleepy sigh escaping from their forgotten bedmate.

She felt like a bucket of cold water had just been dumped over her head as they both froze, staring at each other with wide eyes.

"I think there's a slight hitch in our plans, doll."

"Yeah, a hitch named Maggie," she agreed, rolling away regretfully to look at her sister, peacefully sleeping next to them.

"We could…" he looked over at her, wicked smirk back on his handsome face and before either of them could say another word they were both out of the bed and at the door. He pulled it open, smiling hugely, only to see Fahrenheit on the other side, hand raised to knock. His smile disappeared.

"Happy to see you, too, Boss." Fahrenheit looked between the two of them, eyes narrowed in suspicion before a knowing grin spread across her freckled face. "I hope I'm not interrupting any, uh, pressing business..."

"Were ya here for a reason, Fahr?" Hancock glared at his bodyguard, which only made her smile more.

"Yes, actually." She placed a hand on her hip, meeting him glare for glare.

"Ya gonna tell me what that reason is, or am I just supposed to guess?" His voice was more of a growl by this point, and Adriana was glad she was standing behind him and he couldn't see the amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Maybe if you asked nicely…"

His fist crashed into the door frame.

"Fine, fine… Remember how we found out that Bobbi was planning something?"

"Yes."

"Well, I know what that something is." Fahrenheit was obviously enjoying taking as long as possible to relay the information and Adriana was worried Hancock was going to explode.

"Fahrenheit. If you don't tell me right now, you might live to regret it. Might." He spoke quietly and she could tell he was using every ounce of control he possessed.

"Fine. She's breaking into your warehouse. Now."

Both of the women took several steps back and Maggie sat up in the bed, looking sleepy and confused.

"WHAT?! AND YOU'VE BEEN STANDIN' HERE FUCKIN' WITH ME?!"

"She's going there underground, so it'll take-" but she didn't get to finish her defence.

"GET OVER THERE AND PROTECT MY STASH!"

"Yes, Boss!"

Much to Adriana's surprise, Fahrenheit practically scurried away to do as she was told.

"Morning, Maggie," Hancock turned to the ghoul girl, smiling charmingly. "Sorry for the rude wake up. You hungry?"

Adriana just shook her head, laughing quietly.

Maggie woke to the sound of yelling, her heart racing in fear until her eyes shot open and she saw Adriana standing calmly behind a not so calm Hancock. _If she's not worried, then neither am I._ Maggie stretched, yawning. She hadn't slept so well in years. Hancock turned and asked if she was hungry and she nodded before climbing out of bed.

"Why don't you ladies go on down to Daisy's and see what she's got this morning? I, unfortunately, have mayoral duties to attend to."  
Maggie turned her eyes from their lingering kiss before following Adriana out and down the spiral staircase. Before Adriana opened the door, she reached back and slipped her hand into Maggie's, squeezing it comfortingly.

"Thanks," she whispered. "I'm a little nervous to meet everyone."

"I know the feeling. That's why we're starting with Daisy. She's the best."

So far Adriana hadn't steered her wrong, so if she said this woman was the best, Maggie believed her wholeheartedly. Adriana smiled encouragingly, pulled the front door open and led her across the way to a small shop.

"Well, who do we have here? Is this the sister I've heard so much about?" The ghoul behind the counter smiled charmingly, her rusty voice oddly soothing. Maggie nodded as the woman looked from her to Adriana. "I told you she'd be okay."

"That you did," Adriana replied and Maggie realized she was fighting back tears. It was so nice to have someone that loved her and worried about her again. She heard her sister clear her throat. "Daisy, this is Maggie."

"It's so nice to finally meet ya, sugar! Well, aren't you just the cutest little thing!"  
 _Me, cute?_ Maggie felt the familiar sensation of blood rushing to her cheeks and knew they were turning a brilliant shade of red. That was one thing she had been okay with about turning ghoul, that people wouldn't be able to see her blush anymore and that was one benefit she had yet to receive. _Of course!_

"Isn't she?" Adriana sounded smugly proud, which only made her blush harder.

"Honey, are we embarrassing you?" Daisy smiled kindly as she asked and Maggie nodded, trying not to make eye contact. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I've never seen a blushing ghoul before and I hate to tell ya this, but it only makes you cuter."

"It's true, Mags." Adriana laughed and Maggie, although vexed, couldn't help but be pleased by the sound.

"Anyway, I'm very glad you are here safe. Your sister was so worried." Daisy kindly changed the subject and Maggie could see why Adriana liked her so much.

"I was just glad she made it out safely. I was so worried that I had gotten her killed instead of saved…"

 _The night had arrived like all the others, she and sister crawling into their blankets, cuddling together for warmth. They hadn't fed them anything for dinner, again, and both of their stomachs were painfully empty. Maggie was just beginning to drift into a daze, the closest thing to sleep her body would allow her anymore, when they heard the sound of footsteps. Adriana's arms tightened around her as she began to shake. It never got any easier._

 _They heard the key turn in the lock and the door swung open._

 _She felt sister press a kiss into the top of her head and the small kindness was what brought the tears to her eyes, not the rough hands of the man pulling her from the safety of sister's arms._

 _He was drunk, she could smell it on him as he climbed on top of her, fumbling between his legs. He didn't say anything. Didn't have to. He knew they couldn't do anything, not if they wanted to keep their heads, anyway. She wasn't wearing anything but a scrap of fabric tied around her narrow hips, so there was nothing to keep from his goal._

 _She bit her lip as he forced himself inside, grunting in satisfaction. She could hear sister next to her and her hand flew up, searching for the small comfort of her only friend's touch. Their fingers clung to the other's desperately as the man grabbed her hips and pulled her into a better position for his use. Her leg brushed against something in his pocket and she realized in a moment of clarity that even if she couldn't save herself, she could save sister._

 _Quickly and carefully she slipped her hand down and found that what she was looking for was sticking halfway out of his pocket. The man was beginning to move faster, nearing the eventual conclusion of his actions, so she had to hurry. She looked at the controls, terrified that she would make the wrong selection. She could hear him grunt as he thrust into her more forcefully and she knew it was now or never. She felt his release and as she pressed the button and their collars deactivated and fell off._

 _Sister was still just sitting there, in shock. Maggie squeezed her hand before releasing it and wrapping all her limbs around the creep on top of her._

" _Run," she said forcefully but softly. Sister hesitated and she repeated herself more loudly, "RUN!"_

 _And finally sister listened, eyes full of desperation and hope, she turned, fleeing as the man on top of her struggled through his drunken stupor. Maggie clung to him with all the strength in her frail body, trying to give her sister the best chance for success that she could._

 _Eventually the man managed to free an arm enough to pull it back and slam it back down into her face. She saw stars, but clung to him still. She had to give her enough time, or all of this would be for nothing and they'd both be dead._

 _He hit her again and again, until someone heard the commotion. Her attacker explained what had happened, that they needed to sound the alarm, that a slave was on the loose._

" _It's all this slut's fault!" He pointed at her, "She has to die for this."_

 _The other guy just laughed though, shaking his head._

" _I don't think the boss'd agree with you there. In fact, I think he'd be more than a little pissed that you bloodied up his favorite piece of ass."_

 _Her assailant's eyes went huge and he held his hands up, sputtering apologies and excuses that fell on deaf ears as the newcomer raised his pistol and fired. Warm blood splattered against her and as she struggled to sit up she could feel the sticky seed of the dead man between her thighs. She was glad he was dead._

" _You're lucky the boss likes you," the man said as he holstered his weapon. He advanced on her, finding the remote and pocketing it before putting the collar back around her neck and retreating from the cell, locking her in with the dead body. As she looked down at the corpse, all she could do was worry for the one friend she'd had. If her impulsive move had gotten her killed…_

 _Maggie pulled their threadbare blankets up over herself, shivering with reaction. She was sad to be alone again, but if sister had gotten away it was more than worth it. She tried to sleep, but her body and heart ached too much to allow her the temporary escape. If only she knew sister was safe…_

"Sugar, you okay?" The ghoul's raspy voice broke through the fading memory and Maggie shook her head, coming back to the moment.

"Yeah, must just be hungry," she lied, looking away.

"Of course, dear. I think I have something to fix that."

Adriana pulled her over to a small table, but she looked distracted as she peered out the window. Maggie wondered if maybe her sister knew the bald man sitting outside on the bench, but didn't ask, getting distracted by the steaming cup Daisy placed in front of her.

"Coffee," the woman said, pointing to dark brown liquid in the chipped mug in front of her. "That'll perk you right up."

Maggie wrapped her thin fingers around the mug, revelling in the warmth. She was about to take a sip when she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

"Wow… Daisy must have taken a liking to you if she broke out her precious stash of coffee!"

MacCready's familiar cadence met her ears and she turned to him, smiling hugely, coffee forgotten entirely.  
**

The tantalizing aroma of coffee filled his nostrils, but it wasn't nearly as heady as the smile that Maggie hit him with. He stopped dead in his tracks, goofy grin spreading across his face in response to hers. _Smooth, man._ Luckily Daisy took pity on him and passed him his own steaming mug, giving him a moment to recover.

"Good morning, RJ! Did you sleep alright?" Maggie asked cheerfully.

"Yeah, how about you?"

"I slept wonderfully," she replied with a happy sigh and his heart fluttered a little at the sound.

Adriana stood up, exchanging an obnoxious smile with Daisy before offering him her seat.

"Daisy and I have some catching up to do…" she said by way of excuse, Daisy immediately joining the ruse.

"That we do. Why don't you come up stairs with me, that way we don't bother them…" the two of them disappeared up the stairs, cackling.

"Do you have any idea what's so funny?" Maggie looked at him, eyes so serious that he almost couldn't take it. _How is she still so innocent?_ He just shook his head and shrugged a shoulder.

"Not a clue." He took a sip of his too hot coffee, using the pain of the scorching liquid to keep himself from laughing.

They sat in silence for a few moments and after she took her first hesitant sip, she smiled in pleasure. MacCready wasn't a huge coffee fan, but Daisy must have added a generous spoonful of her coveted sugar to his cup because it was sweet enough that he planned to drink every last drop.

"Do you have anything planned for the day, RJ?" She toyed with the handle of her mug, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Not a thing. You need something?" He tried to keep the hopeful excitement out of his voice, but, once again, failed miserably.

"I was just hoping that maybe you wouldn't mind continuing to teach me how to shoot. I don't ever want to be… defenceless, again." Her eyes finally found his and the look in them was pure determination. He knew that look well. It was the same one that looked out at him from every mirror. Determination was just about the only thing besides his rifle that had kept him and Duncan alive. She had one of those things down and he was going to make it his mission to give her the other.

"Of course I don't mind," he said before downing the last few swallows of his coffee. "Let me go tell Adriana the plan while you finish up your coffee, okay?"

He had barely reached the stairs when he saw Adriana's face appear at the top. She gave him a thumbs up, nodding more enthusiastically than what he thought the situation warranted.

"Looks like we're all good," he said, turning on his heel. "Ready to go?"

She nodded, standing up quickly, and before he could help himself he offered her his arm. He felt something in him relax as her hand slid through his arm, something he hadn't even realized had been wound tight. He sighed happily and led her out of Daisy's.

As soon as MacCready and Maggie left she made her excuses to Daisy.

"I just remembered something I have to, uh, talk to John about…" she said as she stood up quickly.

"Oh, you don't say. Talk." Daisy winked knowingly before reaching into a dresser drawer, pulling out a pill and handing it her. "Rad-X. You know… for talking."

Adriana took the pill and swallowed it, blushing.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, sugar. Anytime." The woman chuckled kindly before shooing her out.

Adriana hurried back over to the State House, climbing the stairs to the second floor two at a time. She opened the door to his office, heart racing wildly, to find him sitting alone at his desk, hands full of paper. He turned around at her entrance and as soon as his eyes met hers he dropped the papers and crossed the room, pulling her into his arms. His mouth was on hers and she distantly heard the door close. His hands ran up and down her sides as hers found his hips and pulled them closer. He broke away for just a moment, breathing shallowly.

"How'd you?"

"Mac."

"I could kiss him."

"How about you kiss me instead?" She nipped at his bottom lip and a growl rumbled up from his chest.

"I intend to do a lot more than kiss, love."

And then she was pressed against the wall, his mouth on hers. She pushed his coat off his shoulders and he let it fall to the ground, never taking his lips from hers. His hands wandered up under the edge of her t-shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His mouth moved from her lips down to her throat, nipping teasingly in between kisses. She moaned, head swimming at the flood of sensations. Her hands held onto him, afraid of getting swept away in the storm.

"You sure you want to do this?" His voice was thick with desire, but still he was worried about her. Her hands found his face, tipping it so she could look into his eyes.

"I'm positive, John."

"If you change-" she didn't even let him finish.

"I'm not going to."

Smirking, he got his hands under her ass and picked her up. A startled squeak escaped her lips as she clung to his neck, a throaty chuckle escaping his lips in response. He carried her over to his desk and stood her up in front of it, hands going to the button of her jeans. He raised a ruined eyebrow and at her nod her flicked the button free and pulled her pants off. She pulled her shirt off herself, enjoying the hungry look in her man's eyes.

"Damn, love," he moaned. "You're fucking beautiful." He ran his hands down her body, starting at her shoulders, traveling over the swell of her breasts, down her thin stomach and then over to her hips. His caresses made her ache in an unfamiliar way, breaths coming out in shallow gasps. "I'm going to make you feel so good, sunshine. I promise."

He picked her up again, sitting her on the edge of the desk and before she knew what was happening, his face was between her legs, his hands gently pushing her thighs apart. He looked up, catching her eyes from under the brim of his hat. His tongue slipped out, running the length of her slit and her eyes went wide in surprise. A startled gasp slipped out of her mouth as he repeated the action.

"You like that, baby?" She nodded, biting her bottom lip, and he dipped his head between her thighs again, humming as he lapped at her. Her back arched as she whimpered. She had never felt anything like what he was doing. It was so completely different from all the awful things that had been done to her and he soon had her squirming and moaning in mindless pleasure as his tongue laved her, finding the most sensitive part of her. She could feel him chuckling in delight against her and the vibrations only added a new layer of pleasure.

"John, oh my god… John…" she knew she wasn't saying anything coherent, but thought was next to impossible in the middle of this inferno.

"That's it, say my name, love."

He found her sensitive bud again, sucking gently on it and a strange feeling stole her breath. Her whole body tensed, she couldn't breath, all she could do was choke out his name once more before she felt herself let go.

Hancock was in heaven. His girl was fucking perfect. She wasn't even touching him, but just the sight of her moaning his name as she squirmed was about to make him lose control in his pants like a fucking teenager. Each breathy moan sent him closer to the edge and then he felt her body tense and knew she was about to come, which only spurred him on. She was screaming his name, convulsing beneath his lips when he heard the door crash open behind him. At first he wasn't sure if he was pissed or if he even cared at all. He quickly landed on pissed. The only reason whoever it was wasn't dead was because they had at least waited for his girl to come before barging in. He licked her one more time, enjoying the shudder that wracked her body, before standing up.

"You better be fucking dying," he said as he turned around to see Fahrenheit holding a blood filled cloth to her shoulder.

"No-Nose is the only one doing the dying today."

"Then why'd you come barging in here Fahr?! You're obviously fine."

"You don't care that your right hand got shot? I'm shocked! I thought you would want to have a full report right away."

"You're a big girl, you can take care of yourself," he growled, making sure to stand in front of his girl.

"True… but I thought you might want to know who Bobbi conned into helping her."

Hancock felt Adriana's hands around his waist as she laid her head against his back, nuzzling into him. _I'm gonna kill Fahr._

"I don't care! We all know she's a con artist, she probably lied. Give em a slap on the fucking wrist and keep an eye on them for a bit. Now get the hell outta here, Fahr."

"Thanks, Fahrenheit, for a job well done. What would I do without you?" She said snarkily as she made her way back to the door. She turned around when she got there, "Good work, by the way, we could hear that girl of yours all the way out on the street." And then she took off for the stairs, leaving the door open so he could hear her laughter ringing off the walls. Hancock turned around, wrapping Adriana in his arms as she pressed her cheek into his chest.

"Sorry about that, doll. I don't know what's gotten into Fahr. She doesn't usually mess with me quite this much."

"I couldn't care less right now," she said, her voice still thick with pleasure, making him laugh.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, love."

"I don't think that's a strong enough word for that."

"Good." He squeezed her tightly against him and an idea occurred to him. "I have a plan. A plan that is going to equal us slipping away for an uninterrupted evening so I can give you the kind of attention you deserve."

"Oh yeah? What do I need to do?"

"Nothing but take a bath and put on what I leave for you. We're having a party tonight."

"How's that going to help?" She asked, raising an eyebrow with a laugh.

"Don't worry, love. I got this."

He helped her back into her jeans and handed her shirt to her, then walked out the doors and across the way. Opening the door on the far side, he left it open so she could see him as he addressed his town.

When everyone was gathered below he spread his arms wide, smiling wickedly down upon them.

"Citizens of Goodneighbor…. Who's ready to fucking party?!"

He was sure Adriana could hear their cheers all the way from his office.

Maggie couldn't believe the uproar they walked into when they arrived back from practice. A stranger with dark hair and sunglasses ran up to them, smiling largely.

"Mayor's throwing a party at the Rail tonight! Be there or be square, daddy-o" he said, shooting finger guns at them before running off, laughing loudly. MacCready just shook his head, pulling her closer to his side as he walked her up to the steps of the State House.

"I bet Adriana's upstairs getting ready for the party, you should head on up and do the same."

"Okay," she said as he opened the door for her. "Will I see you there, RJ?"

"Yeah, of course! I never miss these things."

"Great! See you there!" She headed in and up the stairs, finding Adriana reading a book in bed, wrapped in a towel.

"Hey, sister! What's this I hear about a party?" Maggie dropped down on the bed, waiting expectantly for her answer.

"Hancock's idea," she replied with a shrug. "Why don't I show you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up, too."

 _A bath?_ It sounded glorious and she followed Adriana without further questions.

"I filled the tub with scalding hot water when I was finished thinking it would be cool enough by the time you showed up," she explained, dipping a finger into the water to test it. "Perfect!" She declared before showing Maggie where everything she would need was located and then leaving, closing the door behind her.

 _I'm all alone._ It occurred to her that she hadn't been alone in years. Even when she was "alone" in her cell, there were always countless people around. She hadn't been alone since before… She shook her head, chasing that thought away. _Best not to dwell._ She shed her clothing quickly and stepped into the tub with a sigh, sinking in all the way down until her chin was just above the water.

She looked down at herself, holding her arms out in front for inspection. She sighed at what she saw. Her parents, if they had still been alive, wouldn't even recognize her now. She tried really hard to stay positive, to look at the silver lining, but some days it was hard to find. When she had first been turned, she had been a mess. She was sick and terrified, disgusted with what was happening. Sister had been there, though. She had held her at night, wiped her tears away and never once had she acted any differently towards her. Adriana had only known her for a few days, maybe a week, when they had decided to turn her. Maggie had woken up, screaming in agony, feeling like she was burning alive and Adriana had whispered words of comfort to her.

Eventually the pain had subsided and she had resigned herself to her situation. Who cared what she looked like anyway? Why even bother with pretty? Now though? Now she was free for the first time since had become a ghoul and suddenly being pretty seemed important again. Heartbreakingly, unattainably, important. She could feel the tears bubbling beneath the surface and for once she didn't fight them. She used the cup Adriana had pointed out to pour water over what remained of her hair, the tears streaming down her face washing away with it. She sobbed as she worked Adriana's special conditioner into her hair, leaving it to sit. By the time she had lathered the wash cloth with soap she was crying so hard she was afraid people would hear her. She ran the cloth over the travesty that she called skin, trying to catch her breath between wracking sobs.

Logically she knew that some people didn't mind ghouls, look at Adriana and Hancock, after all. She couldn't help but feel like sister was just… special, though. Plus, Hancock was a guy and charismatic, charm practically oozing from him. What did he need skin for? Her on the other hand? What did she have to offer anyone? She could barely hold a decent conversation. She sighed, trying desperately to lock all of her fears back in the box where they belonged. There wasn't anything she could do about it now. She had no choice and she needed to "make lemonade", like her mom always said. She wasn't really sure what lemonade was, but her mom had said it all the time, smiling cheerily even when she wasn't sure how they were going to eat that night. If her mom could manage to smile, so could she. She finished up, washing her face and rinsing her hair, all the while trying to convince her smile to stay on her face. By the time she left the bathroom, she had almost succeeded. Almost.

She padded back to the bedroom, hurrying, wrapped in nothing but a towel, only to find MacCready heading for the same door. His sharp ears caught the sound of her and he turned, almost dropping the small package in his hands as his face turned an alarming shade of red. _Finally, someone who blushes brighter than I do!_ Maggie, much like Adriana, was used to being naked, or close to it, and wasn't phased in the slightest. Actually, the towel was a lot more coverage than she was used to, truth be told.

"You okay there, RJ? I didn't mean to startle you," she said as got close to him. He sputtered a few times before taking a deep breath and then trying again.

"I, uh… thought you might need something for tonight. Something to wear, that is. To the party." He thrust the package at her and then turned on his heel so fast she almost couldn't stop him.

"Wait!" He froze, turning back around slowly. "Thank you, RJ." She closed the distance between them and stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. She turned and hurried into the room, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it with a sigh, clutching the present to her chest. _A gift. For me._ She could feel the tears welling up again, but this time they were happy tears. _Maybe RJ's my silver lining._ Even if he was never interested in her in any way other than friendship, it would be enough just to have someone as sweet and kind as he was around.

She dropped onto the bed and untied the piece of yarn holding the old Boston Bugle paper he had used to wrap the clothing in. As soon as she pulled the bow out, the paper fell open revealing a simple black dress. She scooped it up, shaking out the wrinkles and holding it up to her tiny frame. She dropped her towel and stepped into the dress, carefully working the zipper up her back. It fit like a glove. She spun around, once, giggling happily as the skirt flared out around her. The dress had a sweetheart neckline, was high waisted with a flowing skirt that ended well above her knees and sleeves came just past her elbows.

She felt beautiful. She had just been crying in the bathtub about her looks and now here she was, feeling a thousand times better about herself. _Mom's usually right. Just have to find the silver lining._ She spun around once more, unable to stop herself. She felt giddy and couldn't wait to find RJ and thank him again.

The door swung open then, revealing Adriana in a low-cut, sleeveless, blood red dress. It clung to her her breasts and small waist, flaring out just a bit over hips and ending at her knees. Maggie gasped at the sight. She looked stunning.

"Maggie! You look beautiful! And here I was, bringing you something to wear. Where'd you find that?" She asked as she crossed the room, Maggie blushing at the compliment.

"You're the one that's beautiful! And RJ gave it to me!" She unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the dress. "Isn't he the sweetest?"

"I guess so! He picked well. It's perfect for you." Adriana wrapped her in a hug, sighing contentedly. "Did you ever think we'd be in a place like this, love?"

Her voice was but a whisper and thick with barely restrained emotion.

"Not in my wildest dreams," she replied honestly.

"Me either, kid. Me either."


	10. Rescue My Heart

Hancock walked down the stairs leading into the Third Rail to make sure Charlie had the preparations for the party under control. As he surveyed the bar, he was glad to see that the VIP room was already roped off to insure Adriana and Maggie had a room to escape to if the press of people proved too overwhelming. He wanted the evening to be perfect and he was trying to account for every possibility. The girls deserved a night where they didn't have to worry, where they could relax for once. The only people not coming to the party were the Neighborhood Watch, but he was compensating them well enough in caps and chems that they were more than happy to sit this one out.

He checked up at the bar to make sure that Charlie had brought out the special wine he had requested for Adriana. When he spotted the case, he snatched up one of the bottles, took the cork out and replaced it loosely. He grabbed a couple wine glasses as well and carried everything back to the VIP area, setting everything up on a small end table. He headed back out to the bar just in time to see MacCready sit down at a table. He had obviously cleaned himself up, his hands and face lacked their usual layer of dirt and, most surprisingly, he wasn't wearing his usual grimey hat. His hair was clean and parted nicely on the side, but he was still wearing the same ratty old clothes he always did. _Can't spare a single cap?_

"I know I just paid ya pretty handsomely for your services, Mac. Couldn't spare a few of those caps for some less tattered threads?" Hancock asked, only partially joking. MacCready caught the undertones of disapproval and started to defend himself before closing his mouth shut with an audible snap and shaking his head.

"What can I say? Don't like throwing caps away." The kid started to turn away when Hancock caught him by the arm.

"How come I get the feelin' you ain't tellin' me somethin'?"

"Maybe it's none of your business," he shot back, but the words lacked their usual bite. Hancock narrowed his eyes and the kid caved, sighing heavily. "Look, I spent the caps I could spare to buy Maggie a dress 'cause I knew she wouldn't have anything and Lucy always said-" he stopped abruptly, pausing for a beat before shrugging Hancock's hand off of his arm. _RJ spent his caps on someone else?_

Hancock sputtered, not knowing what to say. Mac's purse strings were famously tight. The kid argued over every cap, trying to squeeze as many as possible out of any given situation. Hancock wasn't surprised that the first person to inspire his generosity was Maggie, though. She was like a little ray of irradiated sunshine and he had made it his own personal mission in life to hurt anyone that ever did her the slightest wrong.

"I might have something you could borrow for the occasion. Interested?"

MacCready looked at him suspiciously, even after all this time, and it made Hancock's heart hurt. RJ had been through so much that he suspected even his closest friends of underhandedness.

"Sure," came his hesitant reply, sounding more like a question than an actual answer. _Good enough._ Hancock led the kid to a back room where he kept some some of his personal belongings. He had found it a good rule of thumb not to keep all his eggs in one basket. He headed over to an old suitcase, popping the catch to reveal its contents.

"Here we are…" he pulled out an old gray suit that, beside the creases, was in good condition. He passed it over, staring expectantly. "Well? Put it on."

The disgruntled look on RJ's face would have made him laugh if he hadn't busied himself with his tin of Mentats. He popped a few into his mouth listening as the kid huffed in annoyance, changing out of his normal clothes. He slipped the gray pants onto his thin frame, followed by a black shirt. Hancock was impressed that the kid knew how to tie his own tie, and quickly. RJ must have seen the look of approval on his face, because he muttered a single word in explanation.

"Lucy," he said as he shrugged the gray jacket on.

"Well, kid, you don't look half bad. You don't cut quite the striking figure I do, but who does?"

"Thanks for the loan, Hancock. I, uh… thanks."

"Well, you wouldn't want to see Maggie tonight lookin' like you were."

"As long as she has a good time, it doesn't really matter," the words were spoken quietly, but Hancock wasn't surprised by them. The kid had been starstruck ever since he first laid eyes on Adriana's sister. He placed a hand on Mac's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"And don't you ever forget it. Now, I think I hear people out there and we don't want to be back here when our girls show up."

MacCready didn't think Hancock even realized when he didn't follow immediately, just stared at the ghoul's back in disbelief. _Our girls… kinda has a nice ring to it._ He tried to keep the sigh from his lips as he followed Hancock back out, but it was hard to do. MacCready knew he had already had his chance at happiness and he had blown it. Big time. Irreparably. Most people didn't even get one chance and a guy like him sure didn't deserve a second one. He could barely even send enough caps back to the Capital Wasteland to keep Duncan fed. He was a failure as a husband and a father. If Maggie knew the truth about him she'd never smile at him again.

Hancock elbowed him and he looked up, startled, to realize he was on the receiving end of one of those radiant smiles right that very moment. Maggie and Adriana were walking down the stairs, arm in arm, and he wasn't sure he'd ever seen a prettier sight. His pulse surged and he found it difficult to steady his breathing. Maggie was wearing his gift, smiling so brightly he knew the image would be burnt into his memory forever. The room had filled up in their brief absence, but he barely even noticed, taken as he was with the sight of her.

He was still trying to figure out what he was going to say to her when she stopped in front of him. Her cheeks were a little red and her eyes sparkled in the dim light as she looked up at him.

"Thank you so much, RJ. I don't know how I can ever pay you back."

And then Robert Joseph MacCready said something he had never said before.

"Ah, don't worry 'bout payin' me back. It was gift."

"Maybe I could buy you a drink?" Her eyes seemed larger, filled with hope as they were, and he couldn't turn her down.

"Sure, but it really isn't-" he didn't get a chance to complete his thought as she slipped her arm through his and pulled him toward the bar.

Charlie whirred up to them after practically throwing a beer at the patron before them, eye stalk focusing on Maggie who turned her bright smile on the mechanical bartender.

"Wha' can I do ya for, love?"

"May I please have a Nuka-Cola and then whatever RJ would like," she said turning to look back at him.

"Well, someone sure taught you you're please and thankyous! Comin' right up, love."

MacCready watched as the Mr. Handy quickly assembled their beverages and placed them in front of her saying, "You're caps are no good 'ere."

Maggie looked confused as she thanked the bartender and tucked her little pouch of caps back into her hidden pocket. She passed him his whiskey before grabbing her cola and following him away from the bar.

"Well, he was nice."

"I think you're the first person to say that. Ever." MacCready couldn't help laughing at her shocked expression. "It's just that you're the first person I've ever seen him be nice to," he clarified, leading her to an empty sofa on Magnolia's side of the bar.

They sipped their drinks in silence, Maggie obviously enjoying the sultry tones coming from the stage. By the second repeat of the chorus Maggie was singing along so quietly that he was sure he was the only one that could hear her.

"Help me, help me, rescue my heart," her pitch was perfect, sweet and clear. She must have heard the catch in his breath, because she looked up, her eyes meeting his. "Save me, save me, from falling apart. Take me, take me, baby I'm sure."

MacCready was sure he was reading too much into the moment, but it felt like she was singing the words to him, for him. Next thing he knew, his hand was covering hers. She started to say something, but Hancock and Adriana chose that moment to pop up out of nowhere. Or at least that was how it seemed to him, focused on Maggie as he was.

Maggie could feel RJ's disappointment when their friends joined them and it caused butterflies to take flight in her stomach. _Maybe there is a chance…_ Bolstered by the sensation of his hand on hers and feeling pretty for the first time in years, she pressed her drink into Adriana's hands and pulled MacCready to his feet.

"Come one, let's dance!" She tugged him away from the sofa, Hancock liberating the whiskey from his hands and promising to keep it safe.

 _In your stomach,_ MacCready thought fleetingly as Maggie turned her sun bright smile on him. Whiskey forgotten, he reached out placing a hand on her slender hip and pulling her close, keeping a tight hold of her hand in his other. He was worried she would hear his heart as it tried to punch through his chest since her head just barely reached his chin. He felt her free hand slip around his waist and he could swear he heard a small sigh escape her lips.

As RJ began to sway her across the dance floor, she was surprised to discover he could dance, if only a little. She had no moves to speak of, but he knew just enough to be able to lead her through a simple dance and even a few spins, the first of which stole what little breath she had left. She briefly wondered if this was always how it felt when you fell for someone, leaping from one breathless moment to the next in a haze of butterflies and racing hearts, because she had no doubt by this point that falling she certainly was. _How could I not be?_ She had never been in love before though, hadn't even considered it an option, really. She didn't know what she was supposed to do, how to tell if he was just being nice or genuinely interested. After all, he could just be thinking of her as a kind of little sister, being kind to her because of his friendship with Hancock. _It's just so confusing._ Not to mention how hard it was to think when his hand was on her waist the way it was.

 _One, two, three... One, two, three… Don't step on her toes, clumsy!_ MacCready was so focused on the few dance steps that Lucy had taught him that he had very little energy to worry about anything else. For the time being his concerns over Duncan took a back seat, his fear that he would never be good enough for another woman, especially one like Maggie, receded as he focused on keeping in time with the beat. He spun his tiny dance partner around the floor concentrating so fiercely that he almost didn't hear when the song came to an end. He looked down briefly in the silence to see Maggie's luminous eyes staring up at him. He could feel his face moving closer to hers, drawn by an invisible force, but then the music started again and Magnolia's voice woke him from the dreamy daze Maggie had put him in. He smiled and then swept his partner up into the steps of another dance, trying to pretend he didn't see the disappointment on her pretty face.

Hancock watched as MacCready led Maggie around the dance floor, Adriana leaning back against him, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"Have I mentioned how damn beautiful you look, love?" He leaned down to whisper into her ear. When he looked up to see her walking down the stairs he was once again struck by how lucky he was. His girl was a knockout in every sense of the word. Red was definitely her color… She must have made a visit to Daisy, because she was wearing bright red lipstick and black liner around her eyes, two things he knew she hadn't possessed before today, and he wasn't complaining about the effect at all. His mind was currently assaulting him with images of smeared red lipstick. He took a deep breath, reminding himself to be patient. Adriana pressed back against him, slightly swaying her hips before turning around to whisper in his ear.

"I can tell what you're thinking about, you naughty boy," she scolded him playfully, the heat from her breath tickling his ear. _This woman is going to be the death of me, no question._

"Never claimed to be a saint, doll."

"Good," she whispered before closing her teeth on his ear, forcing a shocked moan from him in response. "I rather think a saint would frown upon what I have planned for later…"

Adriana was a constant surprise and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Sounds like you and I have similar ideas, doll." He grabbed her hips, pulling her close and running his hands down to pinch her ass. She squeaked, laughing at his lecherous look.

"Would you mind getting me a glass of wine, love?"

"I could use a drink myself," he said, kissing her cheek before stepping away and heading towards the bar.

Adriana watched him walk away, sighing happily. _He sure looks good in that suit…_ She was so distracted by him that she didn't even realize that Magnolia had stopped singing until the woman herself tapped her shoulder.

"Hi, I wanted to formally introduce myself since it seems I owe you a rather large debt." Her voice was smooth as warm honey and Adriana shook the hand held out in offer. "Fahrenheit told me that the bloodbath in here started because you were protecting me."

"There's no need for thanks. Protecting you might have been the trigger, but I killed those assholes for myself just as much as I did it for you. It was a long time coming."

"Either way, you should let me buy you a drink sometime, sugar. Least I can do."

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'll be around." Adriana replied.

"Glad to hear it," she purred, sauntering back toward her stage. When she arrived at her mic stand she looked back up at Adriana and winked. "I'd like to dedicate this next one to a new friend."

Hancock walked up handing her a glass of red wine as the music began to fill the room again.

"I wouldn't blame ya ditchin' me for a bird like that…" he joked, but Adriana could hear the undertones of worry in his voice.

 _I see you lookin' 'round the corner._

"Ditch you? I'm no where near finished with you," she took a sip of her wine, meeting his eyes over the rim of her glass.

"Ya don't say..." He raised one ruined eyebrow in her direction.

 _Come on inside and pull up a chair_.

"We're just getting started," she licked a drop of wine off her bottom lip, enjoying the look of avid attention on Hancock's face.

 _No need to feel like a stranger, cause we're all a little strange in here._

"I hope ya know you're playin' with fire." He had to admit, he was enjoying this new side of the woman he loved. He shouldn't have been surprised.

"I know. Good thing I like a little danger."

Hancock spent the next hour stoking the flames of the fire he had started earlier in the day. Adriana was desperate for the feel his skin against hers and he knew it. His fingers roamed, discretely caressing the inside of her wrist, the nape of her neck. A seemingly innocent brush of his thigh against hers, a whispered promise in passing. Adriana wasn't sure if she would remember a single name of anyone she met that night because her attention was so focused on him and his torturous touches.

Adriana was watching Maggie, laughing at something MacCready whispered in her ear, when she felt Hancock slip his hand into hers. He pulled her away from the crowd, toward a velvet rope partition that blocked off another room. The room was empty except for the two of them and a bottle of wine, just the way she she liked it. He poured her a glass and she took a sip, realizing distantly that she was feeling pleasantly tipsy. She watched as her man pulled out a familiar red inhaler, shook it and took a long, lingering hit. When he opened his mouth to exhale the drug, she pressed her mouth to his, breathing in. She felt his hands on either side of her face, holding her to him as he gave her the very breath from his lungs. The remnants of his hit came over her, making her body buzz as his tongue followed the drug into her mouth.

Hancock broke the kiss, smiling down at her and slipping the wine glass from her fingers. He turned to place it on the table behind him and she ran her hands up his shoulder blades. He spun, finding her mouth with his and walking her back until she was pressed between him and the wall. Her roaming hands found their way between his jacket and shirt, her nails digging into his scarred flesh through his thin white shirt. He captured her pouty bottom lip between his teeth before running his tongue over it.

"Damn, John… don't tease me with that tongue of yours…" she moaned, arching her back, her breasts pressing against him.

"Who said anything about teasing, doll? I intend for you to be nothing less than satisfied tonight. More than once," his tongue dipped into her ear making her breath catch as she shook against him.

"I want you satisfied, too. Especially after earlier." Her hands found his face, one thumb running tenderly over his prominent cheek bone. The sincerity in her voice made him smile.

"There'll be plenty of time for that. Tonight's all about you, love." Hancock's knee pressed up between her legs and a desperate sound left her lips without her permission as she rubbed herself against him. "Whatcha say to you and I gettin' outta here?"

Adriana couldn't think of anything she'd like more. She pressed her lips to his once more, breathing him in, before pulling away with a smile and nodding.

"Just let me freshen up. Why don't you go check on Maggie and I'll meet you at the door?"

"It's a date."

He stepped back, allowing her to slip past him, watching her hips sway as she sauntered away. She paused as she rounded the corner to look back at him and if he had a little less self control he would have taken her right there. The State House seemed so far away… He grabbed the bottle of wine by the neck and headed back out into the throng of people.

 _I'm never going to get a chance to snatch the boss's bitch back! She's never alone!_ Dominic barely sipped his stale beer, it was just part of his cover. He didn't drink on the job, one of the many reasons he was better than others, why he was chosen for this particular mission. The guy in the gray suit hadn't taken his eyes of the ghoul girl all night. He had hoped she would excuse herself to the bathroom, but she hadn't even finished the one drink she had gotten so that probably wasn't going to happen.

Nothing about this mission seemed to be going his way. He had already had to use his syringe of Med-X to dose some weirdo in sunglasses that seemed far too interested in his marks. The black haired man was now passed out on a sofa, looking like he'd had one too many. If only his other problems were as easy to solve.

Just then, his secondary target walked past him and headed up the stairs. Alone. _Maybe my luck is changing._ He scanned the room, looking for the ghoul that was never far behind her. He was headed toward the ghoul girl and the man in the gray suit. _Guess that decides it…_ Dominic affected a drunken gait, bumbling up the stairs after the woman in the red dress. _Now to take care of the watchdog._

Before the ghoul could even turn around Dominic's fist slammed into his head, right at the base of his skull. The bouncer crumbled, completely out of commission. _One down._  
He made his way to the bathroom quickly, knowing his time was limited. He reached into his pocket, fingering the length of cord he had brought with him for just this purpose. People noted knives and guns. Plus, they were messy and potentially loud. He prefered to do his work up close and personal. He smiled in anticipation.

"Is that you, John? So impatient... " her voice dripped with desire. She started to open the stall door and he stepped forward, slamming the door into her face as hard as he could, enjoying the sound it made as it connected with her forehead.

He took her disorientation to his advantage, crowding her into the stall. Her hands were holding her face and before she could react he punched her in the stomach, forcing the air from her lungs. She sounded pathetic, wheezing for air, and as he got his hands on her shoulders and forced her around he wished he could take his time with her. This was business, not pleasure though, so he retrieved the light blue cord from his pocket and wrapped it around her neck, pulling. She tried to get her fingers underneath it, but it was too tight. She kicked backwards, landing a few painful hits, but she was losing strength quickly.

"With you out of the way it'll be so much easier for the boss to get his little ghoul-bitch back," he taunted her, pressing his lips to her ear.

Her struggles became desperate at his words and he laughed, pulling the cord tighter. _Won't be long now_ , he thought as her body went limp.

Hancock hurried up the stairs after leaving Maggie in MacCready's care. He knew he could trust the kid to return her safely to the State House after the party. He wasn't even halfway up the stairs when he knew something was wrong. He watched as Ham sat up, holding the back of his head. _Why is he… Adriana!_ He didn't even stop to check on his friend, just ran past him and into the bathroom. He couldn't hear a struggle, but he could see the broad shoulders of a man sticking out of one of the stalls. If he was ever going to go feral, this would be what did it. He felt like he had been injected with a double dose of Psycho, so intense was his rage.

He was behind the man in no time, swinging the wine bottle in his hands down on the fucker's head as hard as he could. It connected solidly and the man stumbled, but was surprisingly not knocked out. Hancock dropped the bottle, his hand retrieving his knife with such speed that it seemed to appear out of thin air. A spark of light on metal and then his knife was buried in the man's throat. He pulled it out, ignoring the spray of blood and grabbing the man by his lapels and throwing him out of the stall so he could get to his girl.

He dropped down beside her crumpled body, pulling the cord from around her neck with a cry, but she was just so still. He put his ear to her chest, but there was nothing to hear.


	11. Mouth to Mouth

_No! No, no, no… Fuck! This can't be happening._ Hancock shook Adriana's limp body before hugging her to him. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't see, tears blurred his sight and his chest felt like it was going to explode. _What am I supposed to do?_

He felt hands on him, pulling Adriana away from him and he swung at the person, thinking that maybe it was her attacker, coming back for more. The figure dodged his fist easily, pulling Adriana the rest of the way out of his lap. Hancock blinked, clearing his vision, and was shocked to see Ham bent over Adriana's body, hands pressing rhythmically down on her chest before tipping her head back, pinching her nose shut and covering her mouth with is. Hancock sat helplessly at her side, watching in confusion. _She's already gone!_ She hadn't been breathing, her kind heart painfully still. He didn't know what Ham was about, but he was spiraling too quickly towards despair to bother asking. He had been so happy for such a short amount of time. He should have known karma would catch up eventually.

And then she was gasping for air, her whole body suddenly springing back to life. Hancock thought he was hallucinating at first, but he was determined to steal as many moments with her as he could, real or imagined. Her eyes were open, searching wildly for his and as he crawled into view the desperate relief in them brought it home. _She's really here. She's alive!_ She tried to sit up, but her arms were too shaky. He was more than willing to lend her what strength he possessed though, pulling her into his lap carefully and covering her the crown of her head with gentle kisses. Her fingers dug into him painfully, but he was just relieved by the show of strength. She pulled back suddenly, eyes round with terror.

Hancock looked behind him, head whipping around so quickly that Adriana almost spilled from his lap, but no one was there. He looked back at her, but she only seemed more distressed. She was making a strange noise, a gasping, scratchy mess of a noise that he realized was her trying to speak. It sounded so painful he cringed unintentionally. She tried again to convey her message, gesturing more and more frantically and trying to stand up. Ham caught her before she could fall, returning her back to Hancock's waiting arms.

"It's okay, love. I think I can help," he reassured her as he dug into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He kept at least one Stimpak on him at all times, just in case, because the Commonwealth was unpredictable at its best. When she saw what was in his hands she nodded eagerly before tipping her head back, the fluorescent lighting revealing the poor, abused flesh of her neck. _No wonder she can't speak._ The cord had been pulled so tightly that it had left deep, bloody gouges in her scarred skin and the beginnings of a bruise were already forming. It made Hancock want to murder the asshole who'd done it all over again. Quick had been too good for him.

Carefully, trying not cause her any more pain than necessary, Hancock inserted the Stimpak's needle and depressed the plunger as she sat perfectly still. It took a few moments for the meds to work through the damaged area, but soon she was able to choke out a single word.

"Maggie."

Hancock understood immediately. He left Adriana with Ham, tearing out of the bathroom at top speed. _Mac won't let anything happen to her,_ he told himself, but the words held little comfort. He all but flew down the stairs, gaze casting about in search of the pair. Nothing. There was some drifter passed out on the sofa they had been sitting on earlier, sunglasses askew, but no Maggie. He ran back to the VIP section, knocking the partition over in his haste, heart in his throat. He rounded the corner to find a pistol pointing at him and his shoulders sagged in relief.

"She's safe." He screeched to a stop, leaning back on the wall for support. Maggie was asleep on the sofa across the room, head pillowed on RJ's thigh. "I've never been so happy to have a gun pulled on me in my whole damn life."

"Mind tellin' me what's going on? You're kinda freaking me out," Mac said, lowering the pistol he had leveled on the mayor.

"Not here. We gotta get your girl there back to the State House and under full security." To his credit, the kid just nodded and scooped the sleeping girl up into his arms. Her eyes fluttered but when she saw RJ's face looking down at hers she closed them again, sighing sleepily against his chest. They left the back room, heading straight for the stairs.

"Where the hell'd you get that gun, Mac? I watched ya get dressed and you were distinctly gunless," he asked, looking over at the younger man out of the corner of his eye.

"Stashed in the sofa, man. Never know when an extra piece'll come in handy."

Hancock chuckled, patting him once on the shoulder.

"No shit, man. Good call."

Adriana hurt all over. Coming back from the dead took a toll on the body, apparently. She relished every little ache and pain, just relieved that she had more time to feel them. She might not know who she used to be, but she was happy with who she was becoming and the realization of everything that was almost stolen from her weighed heavily on her heart. Looking over at her attacker's corpse, she hoped to at least recognize him, but his identity was a mystery. _Please just let Maggie be alright._ They were finally both together and free, she wasn't about to let anyone ruin that.

 _With you out of the way it'll be so much easier for the boss to get his ghoul-bitch back._

She kept hearing the words over and over again. She didn't know much about the man that the slavers called "boss", only that he had a special fondness for Maggie. They would take her to him, sometimes for nights at a time, and whenever they brought her back Maggie would just cower in Adriana's arms. She wouldn't cry, wouldn't talk, she'd just shake until until she fell into a fitful sleep in the false safety of her sister's arms.

The bouncer had left to stand guard at the door after telling her in as few words as possible what had happened, leaving her alone with her relief and fear. When she heard footsteps echoing off the walls her head snapped up, pain shooting through her neck at the abrupt movement.

"It's just me. Maggie's safe. Mac's got her," he reached a hand down for her and pulled her up into his arms, squeezing her tightly to his chest. Adriana held to him just as desperately. "Ya really scared me tonight."

The raw pain in his voice hit her hard, tears welling in her eyes as she ran her hands over every inch of him she could find. She wasn't sure who she was trying to reassure more, him or herself. She tried to speak, but the words came out as nothing more than an airy gasp.

"I know, love." His lips found hers, a tender caress. Frustrated with the state of her voice she tried to convey everything she was feeling to him with the only tools at her disposal. Her tongue found his as she pressed against him, wanting him to how thankful she was that he had come looking for her. That he had killed the fucker that almost succeeded in taking everything from her. She hoped her could feel how much she loved him, how much she wanted him, how insanely thankful she was that he was the kind of man he was.

When they finally pulled apart he was gasping for air and she was hungry for more.

"Damn, love. I know how ya feel," he whispered with a smile. His hands found her face and he leaned forward, blessing her with a kiss in the middle of her forehead. "Let's go home."

Hancock kept his arm wrapped possessively around his girl's waist on the walk back, aching for her touch. He wasn't totally convinced that this wasn't a dream, that she wasn't still dead on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. He was terrified of waking to a world without her in it. It was strange how he had lived so many years without much changing, just treading water, and then in a matter of weeks everything was different. She had dropped into his life and rearranged his heart so completely it was barely recognizable, but he couldn't have been any happier about it.

When the four of them reached the State House, accompanied by a handful of Neighborhood Watchmen, he looked over at MacCready who still had Maggie's tiny body cradled in his arms. Before he could even open his mouth, the kid beat him to the punch.

"I'm not leaving her side until we know she's safe." His tone made it clear that he would not be swayed in any way, which suited Hancock's needs just fine.

"That works out, since I was gonna ask ya to stay anyway." Hancock couldn't help but enjoy the nonplussed look on Mac's face as he led him up the stairs and motioned him forward and into his room. "Adriana still needs some, uh," he cleared his throat self-consciously, "medical attention. So, I trust we can leave Maggie in your capable care?"

MacCready looked between the two of them and Hancock swore he could see the kid's internal battle. On the one hand, he loved to give Hancock a hard time, but on the other he tried to be nice to Adriana and not just because she could (and had) kicked his ass. His decent side won out and all he did was nod agreeably, mumbling something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "so that's what they're calling it these days."

Hancock had ushered Adriana out of the room before MacCready had even managed to kick off his shoes, closing the door behind them. He reached for her hand, a slow, devious smile creeping over his features as he lead her away. She decided that smile was her favorite one of his, so far, and she followed after him willingly. He stopped in the hallway leading into the room the balcony was attached to, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention before reaching up and grabbing a small, tattered cord that hung from the ceiling that she had never noticed before. His smile grew as he tugged on the cord and a hatch popped open, a little ladder unfolding into the hall. He helped her up, following and quickly shutting the hatch behind him, leaving them in darkness.

Hancock reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter, flipping it open and creating just enough light to lead her up the stairwell by. The only thing he could hear was the frantic tempo is heart beat out, filling his ears and seemingly echoing off the brick walls. The room the stairs opened into was filled with moonlight and he heard her breath catch as she realized where they were.

Adriana spun around slowly, awed by the view they had from the tower. All four of the walls contained ceiling high windows, each made of several small panes. Only a few on the small panels were broken and the room looked amazingly well preserved in the kind light of the moon. Hancock walked around, lighting candles he had placed around the room, before turning to her with a surprisingly shy smile. There was a sweet uncertainty in his eyes that made her burn for him all the more. _Surely he knows how much I want this._

He had obviously gone to great lengths to prepare the space for her and it was perfect. The bed was made of large cushions, covered with pillows and blankets. He had a table set up with wine and glasses, cans of water sitting on the floor beneath it and candles everywhere. It was beautiful.

Adriana crossed the room to him, everything else fading away. She wanted him to feel as special as he made her feel every time he looked at her. She slipped her hands up under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. It fell to the floor in swish of fabric as she reached up and loosened his tie, letting it fall as well. She took her time, undoing each of his buttons, her eyes never leaving his. When his shirt was untucked and had joined his jacket and tie, she ran her hands over his bare chest. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that there was no rush. No one knew they were here. There would be no interruptions this time and morning was still a long way off.

She stepped in to him, finding his neck with her mouth. He groaned, arms wrapping around her instinctively. Digging her fingers into his chest, he elicited a little gasp that only spurred her on. She trailed kisses up his neck, throwing in the occasional nip, until she reached his mouth. His hands ran up under the hem of her dress, rough on the the smooth skin of the backs of her thighs. All of a sudden her dress seemed like too much distance between them and she broke off the kiss, turning for him to undo her zipper.

She didn't need words to tell him what she wanted. He reached up, not surprised to see the little tremor in his hand as he pulled the zipper and pushed the straps of her dress down her arms. He had seen her naked before, but somehow it felt like the first time here in the moon and candle light. As her dress pooled around her feet, leaving her in nothing but her underwear, Hancock was as speechless as she. He wanted to tell her how gorgeous she was, how lucky he felt, but as she looked back over her shoulder at him, wicked little smile playing across her features, all his words failed him. She wiggled her hips playfully, bringing a smile to his face. That was all the invitation she needed to extend.

His hands traveled around her waist, pulling her back against him and this time she was at his mercy as he covered her neck in kisses, sending goosebumps up and down her legs. One of her hands found the back of his neck, holding him to her as she squirmed against him, feeling his hard length against her. He caressed her hips before allowing himself to venture higher, finding the clasp of her bra. Once he had freed her of the garment his warm hands took its place, fondling her breasts and forcing fevered moans for pleasure from her lips.

Neither of them could stand it another moment. She pulled away from him, turning to unbuckle his belt, only to find that his hands were already accomplishing the task. She busied herself with stepping out of her her shoes and then, finally, her underwear, blushing a little at the animalistic sound emanating from deep within Hancock's chest at the sight.

As naked as she, Hancock sat down on the edge of their makeshift bed.

"Bring your gorgeous self over here, love," he growled and she was only too happy to oblige. She closed the small distance between them, straddling his lap, her arms around his neck as his wrapped around her waist. "You know how much I love you, right?"

She nodded, forehead pressed to his. It made her mad that she couldn't speak yet, that she couldn't reassure him with her words like he was doing for her. She pulled away just enough that he could see her face and mouthed the words, "I love you, too."

He wasn't sure if it was her words or her lack of voice, a vivid reminder of how close he had come to losing her, but he didn't think he could wait much longer. Luckily, she seemed to be of the same mind, crushing her mouth to his while rolling her hips tantalizingly. He worked one of his hands between them, dipping one of his fingers between her folds and groaning at the soft wetness he found there.

His finger between her legs felt like pure electricity and she rubbed herself against him harder in search of more. She could feel his erection pressed between them and was both excited and anxious about the prospect. He was… impressive.

"You want more, doll?" His raspy voice sounded both pleased and amused. She nodded eagerly and he wasted no time in giving her what she wanted, driving two fingers into her silken center. He had intended to take his time with her, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with the way she was writhing in his lap, her velvety warmth tight around his fingers. He was about to ask her if she was ready when she lifted off his lap on to her knees, one of her hands dipping between them to stroke his cock. She smiled at the sound he made, biting her bottom lip.

He hand retreated, watching in rapt attention as she lined him up with her entrance, rubbing the head of his penis between her moist folds first. She raised her eyebrows in silent question and he nodded in affirmation, unable in that moment to utter a single word. She slowly lowered herself down around him and it took all his self control not to thrust himself to her core. She was so soft in comparison to him, so inviting, but he wanted her to know she was in charge, safe. That he would accept only what she offered and nothing more. There would be plenty of time in the future for other things, tonight was about making her feel safe, cherished. His hands clutched the blanket beneath them as she took her time. If he didn't know any better he would think she was teasing him.

Adriana was dying to take him all, his rough skin felt so good against hers, but she loved the way he was practically shaking beneath her. He was being so good, so patient. She knew why and it made her love him even more, if that was possible. There was something about being the one in charge, the one with the power, that was really working for her though. She tried to fight it, but she felt her lips curve into a wicked smile and Hancock's reaction was priceless.

"You really are teasing me! Aren't you?" His mock outrage made her smile even more. "I'll remember this, love." His threat filled her with anticipation.

"You better," she mouthed, right before giving him his reward. She threw her head back, grinding against him as his hands found their way to her hips, resting there gently. He leaned forward, using his mouth to do a little teasing of his own. He found her nipple, sucking gently, enjoying her sharp intake of breath at the contact and the way she wriggled on top of him in response. She might not have a voice, but she was making her feelings quite clear regardless.

Adriana was having a hard time focusing, his talented tongue flicking against her nipple, his hands on her hips and his hardness filling her up were deliciously overwhelming.

"Look at me, love." Her eyes found his as one of his hands moved to her cheek. He kissed her, slow and sweet, and his lips grounded her to the moment. She began to rock her hips, enjoying the little sounds of enjoyment and encouragement he was making.

Hancock could tell the moment she began to relax, to enjoy herself. Her breathing deteriorated into soft pants as she rolled her hips against his. The way she moved felt so good it was taking all his concentration to keep his cool. There was still a part of his mind that couldn't believe what was happening, that was so focused on how soft she was, how much she wanted him, and he knew if he gave into that line of thought this would all be over in moments. He allowed himself to grab her hips, a little tighter than before. She seemed to like it, allowing him to guide her movements. He tilted his hips just right, finding a spot that made her back arch, a strangled whimper making its way out of her damaged throat. He could feel her quivering around him and held her tighter to him, pressing into her sweet spot as her eyes closed in pleasure. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she moved faster against him. His hands moved up to her waist, giving the control back to her as she finally lost herself to the moment. Finding the rhythm that felt best for her, she rode him fast and hard, leaning her forehead against his, her fingers digging into the base of his skull.

"You gonna come for me, love?" He sincerely hoped the answer was yes, because he was about to lose himself. He was the one that was overwhelmed now. Everything she did felt like magic, each touch a gift he would never know what he had done to deserve. And then it happened. An airy cry, barely a sound really, escaped her lips and she froze as her body clenched in release. He couldn't control himself anymore, thrusting up, he drove himself into her as she came around him, losing himself in her climax. They clung to each other, twitching, over stimulated, in the aftermath. Neither of them wanted to end the moment, so they just held each other close as their breathing slowly returned to normal and Hancock knew he had never been happier in his entire life.

"Love you," she managed to force the words out, a painful sounding whisper. It hurt like hell to talk, but it was more than worth it when she saw the look in his eyes.

"I love you, too."


	12. Brave

Hancock trailed a single finger over the curve of Adriana's hip. She was laying on her side facing him with a dreamy, satisfied smile playing across her features. In this moment, he worried that maybe she was nothing but a mirage, a fevered Jet dream conjured from the recesses of his mind. No one had wanted to touch him in so long. His life before becoming a ghoul barely felt real anymore, like it had happened to someone else entirely, and in a way it had. The girls that had thrown themselves at his handsome pre-ghoul face were little more than distant memories. He had convinced himself for so long that he didn't need to be touched, to be loved as man, not just a mayor.

It hadn't been more than ten minutes, but already he wanted her again. Now that he had opened himself up to this, to her, he knew there would be no going back. He was hers for as long as she'd have him. His eyes found hers, relieved to see a fire matching his own.

This time he went to her, laying down next to her, pressing himself against her as she tried to pull him even closer, throwing one of her legs over his, and he took the opportunity to press one of his thighs in between hers.

Adriana hadn't expected to want him again so fiercely so soon. In fact, she wasn't sure the need had ever left her. Her mouth sought his, finding it with a relieved sigh. He had let her take charge before, but this time she wanted him to take the lead. She wanted to know what turned him on. He had been so kind with her, from the very beginning, and there was so much mutual trust and respect that she knew he would keep her in his thoughts always. It was time for him to think about what he wanted. Determined, she managed to wedge her other hand under the hip of his that was pressed into the cushion, shifting her weight so that she could get him on top of her.

"You sure, love?" His voice quivered with barely contained excitement and she nodded.

"Yes," she managed to rasp out with an accompanying nod. Her voice still hurt like hell, but it was thankfully starting to function again, if only a little.

He held himself over her and instead of feeling trapped, she felt protected in the shelter of his scarred body. She was suffocating, not from fear, but from pure, raw emotion. The depth of the love she felt for him hit her like waves against rock, crashing into her, through her, in a relentless barrage. _How can happiness hurt so much?_ He was all around her, pushing his way inside her, his lips on her neck, and the pain turned to a pleasure more intense than anything she had ever experienced. She arched against him, moaning mindlessly, as his hips met hers over and over. With a parting scrape of his teeth on the tender flesh beneath her jaw he raised up to his knees, his hands finding her hips, holding them still with a firm grasp as he increased the tempo.

Adriana abandoned herself to his rhythm, to the friction of his skin against hers, accented by the staccato of his grunts and the harmony of her fevered groans. She could feel the pressure inside her crescendo as he kept up his relentless pace, filling her completely, and just when she thought she couldn't possibly take any more, his thumb found her clit. Pleasure shot through her as he rubbed his thumb over her, her body arching and twitching. A cry ripped through her tortured throat as she came, eyes flying open and landing on the satisfied smirk of her ghoul lover.

"Well, if that ain't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Hancock's voice caught in his throat as he watched her gasping before him, blinking prettily up at him in confusion. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He hadn't meant for the words to slip out, but there they were, nothing but the truth. He couldn't regret them, though, not when she smiled up at him, nuka-cola eyes sparkling in candle light.

"I could say the same thing, John."

The raw sound of her voice was physically painful to hear, but he revelled in her words nonetheless. She scooted back and he shuddered as he withdrew from her still trembling center. He watched her smile turn to something more devious before she crawled off the cushions, looking over her shoulder and crooking her finger at him.

Nothing could have kept him from following after her.

"I saw something that looked like… There it is." She whispered to him, finding the door that led to the balcony. _Does this mean what I think it means?_ Cool air assaulted him as he followed her, eyes wide in surprise, as she sauntered over to the white railing, bracing herself against it. She looked back at him, wiggling her ass in obvious invitation. Hancock was pretty sure he had never wanted to do anything or anyone so much in his entire life. _She wants me to fuck her out on the balcony, up above my town, where anyone could hear._ It was, without a doubt, the hottest thing that he had ever been a part of.

"You sure about this, doll?" He ran his hands over the chilled skin of her backside, enjoying the way she pressed back against him as she nodded in affirmation. "This is hot as hell, love." She nodded again, pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He rubbed the head of his cock against her swollen lips, a growl escaping unbidden as he felt how wet she still was for him. He lined himself up, but before he could move she pushed back, taking in just the tip before pulling back off of him. She teased him, only allowing the head of his cock to enter her over and over again. Just when he didn't think he could take it any more she pushed back, hard, taking all of him. His cry mingled with her strangled gasp as he filled her.

He grabbed her hips, taking charge, withdrawing and entering her again, slowly, feeling her take every inch. They could hear the voices of the Neighborhood Watch echoing off the bricks below and it only added to the excitement. Adriana held on tight as Hancock began to lose himself to the moment, fucking her faster, harder until he cried out loudly as he came with one final thrust.

Adriana worked herself up and down his length as he came until he collapsed against her back, trembling and panting.

"You're incredible."

"I know," she whispered back as he hugged her close, chuckling softly.

Maggie woke in the early hours before dawn, in a dark so absolute that time seemed irrelevant and words were easier to find than your own hand held in front of your face. Her cheek was smashed against the strong warmth of MacCready's chest. She knew it was him, even in her sleep muddled mind. She would know him anywhere, could recognize him by the calloused hand on her arm. She should be worried over the reason behind MacCready's protective presence, because keeping watch he most definitely was, but she couldn't bring herself to worry with him so near.

"Tired of protecting me yet?"

"Never," his quick response was followed by lips pressed to the top of her head, the stubble on his chin catching in her hair. He brought his other hand up to detach the rogue strands and she caught it in her own, bringing to her lips before he could pull it back.

Her lips pressed against his knuckles, warm and soft, and his heart stuttered in his chest before finding an erratic beat. He knew he should pull his hand back, but his fingers twined with hers of their own volition and he allowed her to tuck them under her chin.

"Am I imagining… this?" He couldn't see her, but the quiver in her voice spoke volumes.

"No. I'm just, scared." He wasn't sure if it was the dark or how close she was to him, or maybe it was the blatant desire in her voice, but he couldn't lie no matter what it cost him.

"Me, too."

It was the truth. She was scared, but she was more scared of not trying, of living in a cage. She had already escaped a physical one and she wasn't about to build another around herself, not even for protection. Before she could talk herself down, she looked up and pressed her lips to his. Her aim was a little off, lips half on his, half on his cheek.

MacCready turned his head, hand coming up to the base of her skull, as his lips found hers. He was shaking as she leaned into him, climbing completely into his lap. He held her close, her thin frame weighing next to nothing in his arms. _I wasn't supposed to let this happen._ But happening it was and he was powerless beneath the sweetness of her mouth, the kindness in the caress of her fingers at his neck.

She broke off the kiss, hiding her forehead in his neck, but remained in his lap, arms draped over his shoulders.

"I just had to," her whispered apology was easy to hear in the quiet of the night, even over his uneven breathing.

"Never apologize for being brave."

MacCready was suddenly ashamed. Maggie, tiny, adorable, been through hell Maggie was braver than he by far. Up until now his ability to cut and run, to survive, had always seemed like a selling point. Now? Now he didn't want to just survive. He didn't want to run. Not away at least. If she could be brave, maybe he could be, too.

"The last time I tried to be brave, I failed. Guess it just became easier not to be, less of a risk." Before he could stop himself, the whole story was spilling from his lips, a flood of bitter regret. He was glad of the darkness and the cover it provided, that he couldn't see her reactions and she couldn't see the tears that welled in his eyes.

He told her about Lucy. How they had been young and dumb, too in love to think that maybe it wouldn't work. He had tried so hard to be good enough for her, but he had never deserved her or the son she had given him. She had trusted him to protect them and he had let her down, one final time. He got to the part in the story where Duncan got sick, the two of them near to starving in the Wastes, and by then even the darkness couldn't hide his tears. He was having trouble getting the words out, but he couldn't stop. Now that he'd started he had to tell it all. He hadn't realized how much he needed to talk about it, how it was festering underneath the surface, affecting everything he did, every choice he made.

Maggie held him close, listening quietly as he unburdened himself. She knew he blamed himself for what had happened to Lucy, but it was clear to her that he had done everything possible to save her. If she were completely honest, it sounded like Lucy had sacrificed herself to save her son and husband. It's what Maggie would have done in that situation. With that many ferals it must have been the only option and Lucy must have known RJ would be Duncan's best hope for survival.

"RJ," she paused, taking a deep breath. "I think you did exactly what Lucy wanted."

"Yeah, cause she wanted me to abandon her," he laughed humorlessly.

"No, she wanted you to save Duncan. She bought you the time you needed to save him." She could feel him go completely still against her. She didn't think he was even breathing, but she continued on. "Did Lucy have the skills to protect Duncan without you?"

"No. She was an absolutely terrible shot and clumsy. So clumsy," he sighed, but she could hear the fondness in his voice and it made her smile.

"I didn't know her, but I think she did what needed to be done to save her family and so did you. You didn't run away. You saved her baby and her husband. You did the right thing."

"You really think?" His voice shook with hope as he clung tightly to her.

"You tell me. Does that sound like something she'd do?"

He didn't respond in words, but she could feel him nodding. She squeezed him back as he finally began to release the guilt he had harbored for so long. She could practically feel it draining from his body.

MacCready felt like a man that had just had a noose removed from around his neck. Free. Relieved. Weightless. He hadn't realized how much a part of him his guilt had become, how heavy it was. He was still sad, would always be, but he was also proud. He was so proud to have known a woman that was so brave. He knew that Maggie was right about Lucy's intentions. He'd played the events over and over again in his head and he'd never understood the look in his wife's eyes as he'd scooped up Duncan and kept running, even after she had tripped. He could now put words to what he'd seen in that last quick glimpse. Triumph. Satisfaction. Love. _Thank you, Lucy. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize. You always did say I was a little slow._

He thought back over the years he'd had with her. All the times they had laughed together, all the tears, too. He had to remember those moments, not hide from them the way he had been, and now, thanks to Maggie, he was able to do just that. Lucy deserved to be remembered. He wasn't sure how he could ever repay Maggie. She had completely changed his life with only a few words. Lucy had always told him perspective was everything and he had never really understood what she had meant until now.

MacCready knew that if it hadn't been so dark Maggie would be able to see a smile on his face that resembled the one that Preston wore every time he looked at her. He had been so jealous at that smile when he had seen it on the Minuteman's face, but now he understood. It was gratitude, something he hadn't felt enough of in his life. He didn't know how Maggie did it, but she cut straight through to the heart of the problem, healing old wounds with a few carefully chosen words. She was something special. Rare.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I wish I could have known her, RJ. Sounds like Lucy was one hell of a woman."

"More so than I even realized."

"What about Duncan? You said he was sick. Where is he? Is there something I can do to help?"

The thought of his son out there, sick and missing his father was so heartbreaking she could barely stand it. Mac had already lost his wife and she wasn't about to let him lose his son, too. Lucy had given everything to keep them alive and Maggie wouldn't let that be in vain, not if there was anything she could do.

 _Like you haven't already changed my life._ He would never understand how she had managed to hold on to her sweetness, even after everything that had been done to her. She looked frail, but she might just be the strongest person he had ever known. So many people let others break them down, steal their happiness. You saw it all over the Wasteland. People that had given up on themselves in the face of adversity. People who had ceased to care for others in an attempt to save themselves. Hell, he had been so close to that himself before her.

"I left Duncan in the town I grew up in. It's the only place I could think of that he might be safe while I looked for the cure. I think I've found it, too. I just can't fu-freaking get to it."

Maggie listened intently as he told her about Med-Tek, the passwords and the ferals. As he spoke, a plan began to form in her mind.

"Don't worry, we'll get that cure for Duncan. Trust me," she yawned hugely and it was only then that he realized it was light enough to see her. He had completely lost track of the time.

"We'll worry about that later. Come here. Let me hold you while you get some more sleep, dear."

She smiled, practically throwing herself at him in her excitement to be wrapped in his embrace once more. She closed her eyes only to have them snap back open.

"Wait, why are you here? Where's Adriana?" She sat up and could see the guilt all over his face.

"She's fine. Now. She's with Hancock."

"What do you mean, now?!" Maggie was pushing away from him, frantic with worry.

"She was attacked, but she's okay. I promise, Mags. She's just not here because she wanted some, uhh, alone time. With Hancock." He cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn't have to spell it out.

Maggie stopped trying to make her way to the door.

"You're sure she's okay?"

"Positive," he assured her. He held his arms out to her and she settled in against him once more. "Try to get some sleep."

"Only if you do," she said with laugh.

"Deal."

It wasn't long before MacCready's breathing had settled into the rhythm of sleep and she felt like it was safe to sneak out of his embrace. She knew she'd have to be as quiet as possible if she was going to avoid alerting him. She grabbed Adriana's pistol and Pip-Boy, along with the messenger bag her sister usually carried filled with supplies. She reached the door, looking back for just a moment at the man in the bed, sleeping soundly for the first time since she had met him.

 _I'll be back soon, love._

He had helped save her and now she was going to help him save Duncan. She turned away, determination stiffening her spine. _Med-Tek here I come._


	13. A Moment of Hesitation

Adriana woke as the day's first light filtered in through the giant windows. She looked over, expecting Hancock to be asleep beside her, only to find that he had woken first. She could see him through the window, standing outside on the balcony. Naked. She laughed, shaking her head, as she looked at him appreciatively. Her eyes memorized the image of him, leaning against the railing, casually smoking a cigarette while listening to his town come to life below him. He must have felt her eyes on him, because he turned around, smile already firmly planted on his face.

 _That smile._ It made her heart race. Every time. He could say so much with just a twitch of his lips. It was like a language all his own. Like now, as he watched her walking towards him through the window, his eyes darted down to her hips and back, and his smile changed just slightly. His lips conveyed his lust with only the tiniest of movements, telling her his thoughts before he even spoke.

"Morning, Sunshine. Don't mind me. I'm just enjoying the view," his tongue peeked out, moistening his bottom lip as the gravel in his voice stoked the fire she seemed to always have burning for him. He snuffed the cigarette out, flicking it casually over his shoulder.

"I think you're looking the wrong way, babe. The view's that way," she said playfully, pointing over his shoulder. She came to a stop in front of him, brow arched as she ran her hands over her breasts, fondling them before trailing them down her stomach to her thighs. "Or was this what you were referring to?"

"You're wicked. You know that right?" She could see him hardening already. She had to admit, she liked having that kind of control over him. It made her feel powerful to see the way he wanted her. Sexy, even.

"It's only wicked if I don't let you have me when I'm finished teasing you." She ran a single finger up the length of his neck and up under his chin. "And I fully intend to let you have me anyway you want."

"Damn, doll. You're gonna make me go feral if you keep talkin' like that," he growled, stepping in close enough that she could feel the head of his penis touching her navel. She leaned forward, lips almost touching his before turning and running back inside with a giggle.

Hancock just stood there for a moment, watching her scurry away. _That's one gorgeous ass._ He hurried after her, catching up easily and flinging one arm around her waist as he fell into the cushions, bringing her down beside him.

"Caught ya," he whispered into her ear, following his words with his tongue.

"Now that you've got me, what do you intend to do with me?"

"Love you." He stopped what he was doing so he could look into her eyes with a gaze so intense that she could do nothing but believe him. It was in moments like this that she was almost grateful for everything that had happened to her, because all of it had led her here. To this very moment. To a man she hadn't even been able to imagine. He was both kind and vicious, with a moral compass that could not be compromised. Some might think less of him for drug use or his lack of flawless skin, but she only loved him more for it. He wasn't perfect, but she loved his imperfections.

No matter what she was doing, he was the ideal person to have at her side because he made everything more enjoyable. He was the life of any party, but he was just as great to lay around in bed and read a book with. When they made he love she felt treasured, desirable above all others. Vulnerable, but no more so than he, because for every piece of her that he took he offered a bit of himself in return. He would bleed for her. He would kill for her. More importantly, though, he would live for her.

"John, I don't think it's possible to love anyone more than I love you. My heart hurts with loving you," she couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes as she looked into his.

"Then let me make it feel better," he purred, dipping his head to place a kiss between her breasts. He looked up, head still nestled to her bosom. "Tell me, love, does anything else need a kiss to feel better?"

"I might be able to think of a few places that could use your attention," she replied, placing one hand on his head and nudging him lower. He trailed kisses down her stomach as he slid off the cushions to kneel on the floor. He slid his hands under her, pulling her to the edge, before he stuck his tongue out, almost touching her and then pulling away quickly.

"Maybe I should tease you the way you tease me."

"I'm sorry, John. I promise I'll behave. Just give me kiss," she moaned down at him. She was more than aware of his capabilities with that mouth of his and the anticipation was killing her.

"Don't you dare behave. Ever." He dove between her legs, hands holding her thighs apart so he'd have room to work. His tongue lapped at her clit before dipping lower, teasing her entrance. In mere moments she had dissolved into a quaking mess, wanton wails of desire the only sounds she was capable of. His hands slipped lower, pulling her apart for easier access. He paused, taking in the beauty before him with a reverent sigh.

"You're fuckin' perfection," he ran his tongue slowly along the length of her slit, ending with his mouth around her sweet, swollen bud. He sucked, enjoying her gasp of pleasure and the slight pain of her nails in his scalp. "Mmmmm, you like that, baby?"

His voice rumbled and vibrated against her, nearly tipping her over the edge. She couldn't speak, could barely breathe under the assault of his mouth and then she felt two fingers push inside, curling up to press in just the right spot. She came hard and breathless, thighs clamping around his head, walls clenched tight around his still beckoning fingers as she she threw her head back.

Hancock continued to lazily lick at her slick, swollen folds, enjoying the way she moaned through the aftershocks, eyelids heavy, bottom lip red from her teeth biting into it. With a final and strategically placed kissed, he crawled back up her body, turning his head to wipe his mouth against his shoulder. He held himself over her, looking down at her with a satisfied smirk.

Adriana took a deep breath, hoping it would help settle her still speeding heart, but it only exacerbated it. She could smell herself on him and for some reason she couldn't understand, she found that incredibly sexy. She raised up enough to press her mouth to his, one hand finding the base of his skull while she braced herself with the other one. She parted his lips with her tongue, pulling her knees back so that his eagerly questing hardness could find her entrance.

Hancock thrust inside, swiftly and completely, as she held herself tightly to him, panting against his parted lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, angling her hips so he could get even deeper and he groaned his appreciation at the results.

"You like that, John?" Though her voice had reclaimed some of its normal cadence, it still sounded throatier than normal, but lacked none of her teasing intent.

"Like's not a strong enough word, doll."

She released her hold on his neck, stretching out below him, breasts bouncing with his efforts. She chuckled, that mischievous glint back in her eyes as she she trailed her nails down his sides before grabbing his hips and pulling him to her, thrusting up against him at the same time. He threw his head back as she ground against him, nails digging into his ruined flesh, the raspy, flirtatious lilt of her voice filling his ears.

"What about this, John? Does it feel good?"

"You're a beautifully evil creature, love." He leaned down, pressing a rough kiss to her smiling lips, before rolling on to his back and pulling her on top of him. "Torture me some more."

"With pleasure," she whispered into his ear before nipping at it.

Adriana straightened up, looking down at him with a benevolent smile. She began to rock her hips, grinding against him, enjoying the way his breath quickened with each of her movements. _I wonder…_ She used a hand to fondle one of her breasts, enjoying the way he bit down on his lip in response, hands finding her hips. She continued to work her hips, both hands massaging her breasts as he watched avidly, fingers digging into her hips as he thrust up into her more and more frantically, unable to keep still.

"That's it, baby. Come for me," she whispered, reaching down with one hand to brace herself against his chest so she could lift up enough to give him more room to move.

Hancock thrust up, hard and fast, eyes locked on hers as she held herself over him. The new position sent him over the edge quickly and as he came with a shuddering cry she dropped back down, pressing into him hard.

Adriana could feel him pulsing inside her, filling her with his seed and the sensation sent her tumbling after him. She arched her back, rocking her hips as they came together before collapsing against his chest, breathless.

"Damn, Sunshine," Hancock managed to choke out, wrapping her in his warm embrace. The rough skin of his chest a comfort against her cheek as they clung to each other, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Unwilling to part yet, they stayed tangled, basking in the beauty of the love they had found in each other.

Maggie knew they would realize she was gone soon, but she was confident that she had a good head start. She knew they wouldn't let her go into Med-Tek alone, but she needed to prove to them that she could contribute, that she wasn't just some helpless damsel.

She hadn't had to fight anyone, slinking from shadow to shadow. It helped that the ferals ignored her completely, just like she had anticipated. She disliked having to pick her way through their rotting corpses, feeling like a hypocrite all the while. Seeing their mindlessness filled her with a bone deep fear that one day she would be just like them. She tried to push the thoughts away, but they clawed their way back into her mind with a vicious strength.

She checked the Pip-Boy strapped around her arm, glad to see that the facility wasn't far. She had programed the passwords she had gotten from RJ into the computer to lessen the chance of her forgetting them. She had worried that he might catch on to her plan when she had asked him to repeat them for her, but he had been up all night and hadn't noticed anything weird about it. The clothes she was wearing were a little too big, having come from Adriana's pack, but they were better than risking the beautiful dress MacCready had gifted her with. She had changed in Hancock's study, folding the dress almost reverently and leaving it on the mayor's desk along with a note.

 _I know you won't listen, but don't worry. I'll be back soon. I've gone to Med-Tek to get the cure for Duncan. The ferals won't attack a single ghoul like me. I can do this._

She had wanted to say more, but there hadn't been time. She'd hastily added a heart and her name below the words, leaving the note on top of her dress and sneaking out. The upside to being small was having a light step, making it easy to sneak past the Watch. She'd have to tell Hancock when she got back just how unsettlingly easy it had been.

When she reached the building she didn't even hesitate before pulling the door open, she just walked in like she owned the place, determined. _Don't worry, Duncan. You're cure is coming._

MacCready woke with a start. He hadn't slept deeply in, well, years. As he sat up and looked around he remembered why. _Nothing good ever happens when I'm asleep._ This time didn't seem to be any exception. He knew she was gone. The spot next to him was long cold and the pit of his stomach roiled with fear. She was gone and he had to find her. He jumped out of bed, looking for his regular clothes, only to remember that he had left them at the Third Rail.

He hurried out of the room, peeking into Hancock's office to see if maybe he was wrong, hoping she was sitting on the sofa waiting for him to wake.

She wasn't, of course, because things always fell apart just when they seemed about to work out, it was just the order of the universe. As his eyes scanned the room, desperate for any sign of her, they landed on Hancock's desk. _Her dress…_ He crossed the room in a few ground eating paces, snatching up the dress and its accompanying note. It took all his self control not to let every curse word he knew spew from his lips. _This is all my fault. Once again._

"Fuck!" Duncan would just have to forgive him. He held her dress up to his face, allowing himself a moment to enjoy the way his scent lingered with hers on the soft, black fabric of his gift to her. He draped the dress over the back of Hancock's chair. _Hancock. Adriana._ He almost cursed again. He'd had one job: keep Maggie safe. And what had he done? The exact opposite. _They're gonna kill me_.

As if on cue, a hatch opened across the stairwell and the happy couple descended. They linked hands, turning his direction after closing up the entrance to their hideout. MacCready felt like a Radstag, frozen with indecision at the sight of them. Adriana smiled over at him with a wave. She looked so happy, wearing nothing but a smile and an oversized flannel, barefeet slapping against the worn wood floor. When she saw his face, though, she knew something was wrong.

"Mac? What is it? Where's Maggie?"

He held the note out to her, unable to say the words. She read it quickly, Hancock peering over her shoulder to do the same. He braced himself for their anger, but they both just looked at him in confusion.

"What's this mean? Who's Duncan?"

 _Crap._ He wasn't looking forward to telling that story again. He took a deep breath, preparing to put the final nails into his coffin."This is all my fault," he started, running his hand nervously through his hair. He took a deep breath and told them everything.

Deacon woke up with a crick in his neck and in foul mood over having been out-spied. He was furious and worried, not a good combination. He scanned the room from behind his shades, not moving, checking for obvious signs of mayhem. _No huge puddles of blood…_ _That bodes well._ Deacon stood, deciding to go to his best source of information on anything that happened inside the Third Rail. He headed up the stairs, feet feeling heavier than normal thanks to the high dosage on Med-X that he'd been injected with.

As Deacon trudged upwards, he thought about how lucky it was that Magnolia and Ham had become as close as they were. Ham was in the perfect position to keep tabs on people of interest that passed through the town of Goodneighbor, which almost everyone did at some point. Ham knew the work the Railroad did and had offered his services, contingent on the condition that he was never asked to betray the mayor's confidence. Deacon had no problem with the stipulation and had readily agreed.

"Glad to see you're up, Sleeping Beauty. I was worried I was going to have to put a call into HQ requesting a prince."

"Hilarious," Deacon's voice sounded bored, but he was actually having to hold back a smile, because it would have ruined the whole deadpan mode of communication he and the ghoul had spent years perfecting.

"I'm assuming the schmuck that knocked me out cold is the same one that's responsible for your much needed beauty rest," Ham kept his eyes pointing forward, watching the front door as Deacon kept his eyes on the stairs.

"Someone managed to get the drop on you?" The idea worried him, but also made him feel a tiny bit better about having been had. Misery loved company and Deacon was nothing if not miserable.

"Me and the mayor's girl. If I hadn't come to in time to give her CPR…" his words sounded nonchalant, but Deacon knew how much a close call like that would affect the stoic ghoul. As much as he tried to act like he didn't care, he wouldn't have volunteered to help the Railroad if he truly didn't.

"Damn, I take it Hancock finished the guy off, then?"

"Yeah, but it's not over. Apparently that nest of slavers the girls escaped from is bigger than we knew and whoever is in charge wants Maggie back for his own." Ham's eyes met his and Deacon didn't need to ask how the ghoul felt about that. Ham always had a soft spot for the ladies, but a sweet little ghoul girl like Maggie? The girl was already amassing quite the fan club and Ham was a card carrying member.

"Lemme guess, no one knows who this leader is? Hancock gonna recruit Valentine to do some digging?"

"That was the plan, but they were just here. Apparently Maggie ran off in order to help that merc, MacCready, not knowing the kind of danger she's in. They had to put off going after Valentine."

"Sounds like a job for Super Drifter!" He winked, knowing the ghoul wouldn't get the full effect from behind his shades, but not caring. He started toward the door, calling back over his shoulder, "Let's try to stay awake for this one, Snow White."

Deacon dipped into the alley behind the gun shop, taking off his wig and grabbing the leather duster and large brimmed hat he had stashed there.

He was off to see a man about a horse.

Maggie had finally made it to the room that was supposed to house the cure. Minus a close call with a couple of turrets, the trip had been fairly uneventful. Just as she had anticipated, the ferals didn't pay her any mind. RJ's passwords had gotten her through the building easily and now all she had to do was scoop up the cure and head back to Goodneighbor.

She found a drug labeled Prevent and tucked it safely into her bag, sweeping the room for other useful items. She opened a refrigerator, laughing at the sight of two stuffed bears posed in a compromising position.

"Pardon me!" She giggled in mock apology, closing the door. "I guess there's no such thing as bear style. I'm sure the dogs won't mind you borrowing from them, though…"

Maggie was giddy with relief over having found the cure and couldn't help but laugh out loud. Still high on success, she made her way out of the building, which was a much quicker trip than the way in. She stepped out into the sun with a smile only to feel a hand clamp down around her left arm.

"Can you believe our luck?! We thought you'd die in there for sure! We were just about to leave and tell the boss you were a goner and out you stroll! What're the chances?"

Maggie didn't even know how to respond. What was he even talking about? Another man walked up, not laughing like his comrade, and Maggie's blood turned to ice in her veins.

"The boss has missed his number one girl," Thorne leered down at her as he stepped in close, whispering, "and so have I."

Maggie wasn't about to go back, not without a fight at least. Keeping her eyes locked firmly on Thorne she moved her right hand slowly down to where Adriana's pistol was holstered to her thigh. As much as she hated Thorne, she needed to get the other man's hand off her arm if she was to even have a chance at escaping. Thankful for the weapons training RJ had given her, she took a deep breath, and just went for it.

She retrieved the pistol from the holster, pulled back the hammer and squeezed the trigger. The hand on her arm disappeared as the man cried, doubling over to hold his stomach.

"Shit! The little bitch shot me, Thorne! She fucking shot me!" The man cried, falling to his knees.

Thorne seemed to care as much about his fallen compatriot as much as Maggie did. He didn't even reply, just held his hands up in mock surrender while trying to take a step toward her.

"Don't think I won't shoot you, too. Stay put. I'm the one giving the orders this time." Maggie was proud that her hands were steady as she held the weapon aimed at his chest. She should just shoot him, but for some reason she was hesitating, something Mac had told her never to do.

She could feel his hands on her arms as his mouth pressed to her ear, his body close behind her. _One moment of hesitation can be the difference between life and death, Maggie._

She pulled the trigger.

Deacon had made it to Diamond City in record time, changing into his stashed guard uniform, before walking through the gate. He wasted no time, making a beeline for the Detective's office. Valentine had done some work for the Railroad from time to time even though he preferred the lone wolf approach, which Deacon could appreciate. He pulled open the door, unsurprised to find Ellie, Valentine's secretary, alone in the office. He was surprised when she turned around, eyes full of tears, brow creased with worry.

"Allen? Where have you been? Nick's been missing for almost two weeks!" She crossed the room, throwing herself into his arms. Deacon took a deep breath, trying to shove away his personal discomfort so he could respond as Allen would.

"I'm so sorry, El. Lemme guess... even after all he's done, the pricks in the upper stands still won't lift a finger to help find him."

"I even know where he is, but they won't risk 'human lives' for someone who's 'just a synth'. He was headed to confront Skinny Malone about some missing girl." She detached herself from him so she could grab a manilla folder off the desk. "Everything on the case is in here."

She thrust the folder into his hands, her brown eyes filled with pleading for him, or anyone, to do something to save the man that had done so much for her. Allen nodded reassuringly, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry El, your ol' pal Allen's on the case," with a final squeeze he released her arm, turning to leave.

"Just don't go gettin' yourself killed. Nick wouldn't want that." She toyed nervously with the pink and white striped scarf she had looped around her neck, dark brown brows drawn together in worry.

"I'll do my best," Allen replied before stepping back out of the office and pulling the door shut behind him. "Skinny Malone, eh? This should be… interesting."

He walked straight back out of Diamond City, heading toward Park Street Station while flipping through the information Ellie had given him.

"Don't worry, Nicky. I'm comin'." He wondered absently if he should be concerned by how often he talked to himself. "I think you only have to worry when you start answering, too." _Damn._


	14. No Apologies

Maggie looked down at Thorne as she stood just out of reach, pistol pointed at his head.

"Put your gun on the ground and slide it over to me. Knife, too. If you make one wrong move, I will shoot you again."

Thorne glared up at her, clutching his injured leg with one hand as blood poured through his fingers. He reluctantly parted with his weapons, which she picked up and added to Adriana's bag.

"You tell the boss that he's never getting his hands on me again," she spit the words out, trying to sound tougher than she felt, which was not at all. Of all the reactions she expected, a smile had not been anywhere even near the list, but smile he did. As crooked, rotting teeth grinned up at her she was filled with confusion and a mounting feeling of dread.

"Why don't you tell him yourself?"

Before she could form a response she was hit with something from behind, blinding pain radiating from the back of her head. Her pistol skittered away on the cracked pavement as she dropped to her knees. Laughter echoed in her ears, cruel and taunting.

"After all, you'll be seeing him soon."

Maggie tried to get up, feeling foolish for having left the safety of Goodneighbor. Not only was she now at risk, but so was Duncan. _If I can't get the cure to RJ_... The thought of his son's death being her fault filled her with a desperate rage. It was one thing to threaten her life, but this wasn't just about her. She dove after her gun, landing hard against the cement, fingers just barely reaching her weapon. She stretched farther, feeling a hand around her ankle, but managed to wrap her fingers around the grip, flipping over as her attacker yanked her backward.

Her shirt rode up, scraping against the pavement, but she barely noticed as she leveled her gun at the unknown assailant and squeezed the trigger.

The man grunted in surprise, releasing her leg, to reach for his own weapon. She shot him again, gun in one hand while using the other to push herself up. She kept pulling the trigger until the man finally collapsed and her clip was empty. Her hand shook as she lowered the gun, trying not to look at the bullet riddled body on the ground next to her. Before she even stood up, she ejected the empty clip replacing it with a new one from her bag. _Reload immediately_ , she could hear MacCready's voice reminding her. _An empty gun is next to useless._

Pistol reloaded, she pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. Looking over at Thorne, she was both relieved and disgusted to see that he finally wore a look of fear mingled with grudging respect.

"You know he's never going to stop coming for you, right?" His eyes were narrowed in what might have been interpreted as concern by someone who hadn't been on the receiving end of his mercy before.

"Then I guess I'll just have to be ready, won't I?" She turned, shoulders back and chin held high, trying to look more confident than she felt as as she walked away. Her insides quaked, stomach churning and twisting in her gut.

Her back teeth ground against each other as she tried to keep from vomiting until she was far enough away that Thorne wouldn't be able to hear her. She could feel her stomach muscles tense and she purposefully inhaled through her nose and out through her mouth. Once out of sight, she dropped to her hands and knees, finally letting her body react to all the fear and violence.

When her stomach finally ceased heaving, she reached into her bag and pulled out a can of water and an old cloth. It took a couple tries to get the water open as her hands were still shaking violently. She swished some water and spit it out before pouring more out onto the cloth. Once it was sufficiently damp, she scrubbed at the blood that had splattered onto her arms and face. She didn't bother with the blood on her borrowed clothes, they were hitting the trash as soon as possible anyway. No matter how she tried, her irradiated skin never seemed to come clean.

She scrubbed until it hurt, the cloth pink with blood that wasn't hers, but that seemed to say more about her than if it had been. She knew she hadn't had a choice. Logically, she knew she had only done what had been necessary and not just for her, but for Duncan, too. Those men were little more than molerats and a thousand times more disgusting. Using people any way they saw fit, taking anything they wanted with no regard. They delighted in suffering. She shouldn't feel bad about ending them. Logically.

As she leaned against the brick wall of some long abandoned building, she felt weak, pathetic even, as she cried, bloody cloth clutched between stained fingers. She had never taken a life before and, if she was honest, she was most upset because she was proud of herself. _What kind of world is this that I am proud of being a murder?_

Deacon strolled into the Park Street station wearing a ratty three piece suit and fedora, submachine gun casually leaning against his shoulder. Between the hat and his shades, not much of his face was visible. One of the guys on watch looked up, cigarette hanging from his lips, nodding in greeting.

"Welcome back, Phil. We was gettin' worried you wasn't comin' back! Good to see ya!" The man gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and Deacon raised his chin in acknowledgement. _Thanks for the name, pal._ Hopefully being Phil would get him in the door, because once inside it wouldn't be difficult to get around unnoticed. In a growing organization the size of Malone's there was always someone you didn't know. Some new guy that you hadn't been introduced to yet. Luckily for Deacon there was also always some dumb schmo willing to give him a name he could use, provided that he didn't accidentally use it on the guy's best mate.

He waved casually, but kept moving. Since this guy actually knew Phil, it was best not to talk to him on the off chance that Phil had an unusually high pitched voice. _Or a lisp._

"Classic, Phil! Catch ya later, pal!" The man chuckled to himself as Phil walked away. _So, Phil's not much of a talker… I like him already._

As suspected, Phil had no problem gaining access to the vault or navigating it unquestioned. He had been able to walk straight by a bunch of guys on watch just because he was wearing the right clothes and walking with a purpose. _Were people before the bombs this stupid, or is all that radiation finally catching up with us?_ Eventually Phil came to a room where he could hear another one of Skinny's tommy gun toting thugs up ahead. He strolled in casually, like he was exactly where he was supposed be. After all, that approach had been working well so far.

 _Bingo!_ The prick was taunting Valentine, but as Phil listened he realized the guy didn't have enough wits, even if he borrowed some, to go toe to toe with the detective. Valentine convinced him that he was on Skinny's hit list and the guy all but flew past him in his attempt to go smooth things over with the boss. He didn't even look twice as Phil walked passed him, heading toward the room Valentine was being held in. He waited until the guy had made it out of hearing range and then stepped up to the window.

"Well, I'll be… I'd recognize those old shades anywhere. Fancy meeting a guy like you in a place like this." The detective's yellow eyes shone out from under his battered old fedora until he walked closer to the window and the light hit the tattered remains of his synthetic skin. He was wearing his usual trench coat and patented smirk as he looked out at Deacon.

"Thought maybe you could use a date to the dance. You're looking a little lonely," he responded, dropping his assumed persona.

"You can sweet talk me all you want after you get this door open. We get outta this mess with all our bits and pieces and who knows…"

"Empty promises," Deacon sighed, heading over to hack the terminal. It didn't take much to break into the system and before long Nick Valentine was standing next to him practically humming with excitement.

"Not that I'm complaining, but to what do I owe the pleasure?" Nick raised a single eyebrow as Deacon handed him the extra gun he had brought along.

"I'm interested in recruiting someone, but they've got some nasty baggage that needs to be dealt with first. Only problem? We don't know where to find him." Deacon started walking, Valentine falling in step beside him. "Then I realized, hey! Who do I know that's good at finding people? After I checked with my first and second choice, I decided to come find you. I have to say, you usually keep slightly better company, Nicky. You're standards have taken a serious nose dive."

"Real cute, Deacon. Let's just get the hell outta here."

Maggie was trying to pull herself together, rather unsuccessfully, when she heard hurried footsteps coming in her direction. She unholstered her pistol, thankful that she had already reloaded it, and aimed it so whoever came around that corner would think twice about messing with her.

MacCready could hear her crying. He knew it was her and took off, terrified of what he'd find when he finally reached her. He came flying around a corner only to skid to a stop with a pistol pointed straight at his face.

"RJ?!" The gun disappeared, hastily reholstered so that she could fling herself into his chest.

"Are you okay?" He held her at arm's length so that he could look her over, but when she didn't seem to be injured he quickly pulled her into his embrace. "I was so worried, Maggie. Promise me you won't ever leave me without saying goodbye again."

"I promise," she sobbed into the lapels of his duster, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

He took a deep breath, holding it for a few moments before releasing it slowly. _She's okay._

Adriana and Hancock rounded the corner then, guns drawn, worry clear on their faces. Maggie looked up to see their twin looks of relief and launched herself at Adriana, clinging to her thin frame with a desperate relief.

"Glad to find you in one piece, sister. You really had us worried." Hancock patted her back, looking down at her, equal parts relief and concern playing across his scarred features. "Tell me that blood ain't yours."

"Not a drop," she answered, removing herself from the safety of Adriana's arms.

MacCready took in the scene. Blood spattered across her clothing, tear stained cheeks and puddle of vomit. Seemed pretty clear to him.

"First kill's always the worst," he whispered.

Maggie's eyes found his, tears threatening to overflow, but then a smile lit her face and she began digging through her bag. She found what she was looking for and pulled it out, presenting it to him on upturned hands.

"Is that?" His hands shook as he reached out, carefully taking the drug from her much smaller ones.

"Yes."

MacCready tucked the precious gift into an inside pocket of his duster, close to his heart.

"How can I ever thank you." He stepped closer, one hand cupping her cheek.

"I did it to thank you," she replied, leaning into his touch.

"You didn't need…"

"I know."

They stood there, eyes locked, until Hancock cleared his throat.

"I might do my best work after dark, but I'd prefer to make it back to Goodneighbor before I have to prove it."

MacCready cleared his throat, nodding his agreement. Maggie started to walk away, but he caught her around the waist and pulled her close, leaning down to kiss her before he could think better of it. A surprised squeak escaped her at the contact before she relaxed into his arms with a sigh, lips parting eagerly. He could hear Hancock chuckling in the background, followed by retreating footsteps, but they barely registered. All he could think about was how so few people had ever cared about him, done anything for him, and that somehow all that pain was lessened by this one act of kindness. The idea that this one sweet, beautiful creature had risked her life to help him and his son was almost overwhelming.

Maggie's hands found his chest, fists balling in the old, worn fabric of his duster as she leaned into him. This was her first time on the receiving end of a kiss she actually desired and as his tongue found hers she realized that she was only going to want more. Her skin tingled where his touched hers, soft and cool juxtaposed with her higher temperature and scarred flesh. The fingers of his left hand tangled in her hair as he pulled her closer, the thumb of his right hand finding the exposed skin between her borrowed shirt and jeans.

MacCready broke the kiss, taking in a deep breath, eyes closed tightly.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't ever apologize for kissing me, RJ."

He felt her lips press against his for just a moment before she released her hold on his clothing. As she stepped away he was filled with fear, a fear that if he didn't reassure her right then and there that he wanted her, was thankful for her, that he might not get another opportunity. The Wasteland wasn't exactly known for giving second chances. He pulled her back to him, kissing her with all the pain and newly found hope his body contained.

Maggie was swept up into his arms and it brought to mind what she imagined a radiation storm would feel like now that she was ghoul. It was exciting and dangerous, rough but exhilarating. He left her feeling breathless, but full of life, rejuvenated.

The four of them didn't talk much on the way back to Goodneighbor, focused on getting back without any surprises. They didn't encounter anything the four of them couldn't put down easily, making it back just as darkness had truly descended. When they walked in, Adriana watched as MacCready headed straight to Daisy's store, handing over the cure with an ear to ear smile on his face. She couldn't hear what was being said, but she saw Daisy's face break out in an answering grin as she nodded, taking the syringe carefully from him.

Adriana turned her gaze to Maggie, who was watching Mac with a look on her face that Adriana knew well, because she wore the same one every time she looked at Hancock.

"You've got it bad, sister," Adriana whispered into her ear.

"Do I ever," Maggie replied with a shake of her head. "I think you know the feeling."

Adriana laughed at the pointed look Maggie split between her and Hancock.

MacCready rejoined them at that point, throwing an arm around Maggie's shoulder and placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'd say we should celebrate at the Rail, but somehow that never goes well for you," he commented.

"I think we'll keep the celebrating to the State House for the night. My nerves can't take another night at the Rail," Hancock said, joining the conversation.

"What exactly happened?" Maggie looked from face to face, finally landing on hers.

"Let's get inside first, Mags. I'll fill you in then."

They crossed the short distance to the door of the State House, Hancock holding it open for them to all walk through before following. They headed to his office, dropping their bags and placing their weapons on the drug littered coffee table. After collapsing in relief into the worn embrace of one of Hancock's old sofa's, Adriana began the story of what had happened the previous night, Hancock picking up where he came in. Maggie looked between the two of them from her seat next to MacCready on the opposite sofa, horror in every line of her face.

"Well, that explains what happened to me today," she replied, onyx eyes wide in terror.

Adriana watched Mac's face as Maggie told them what had transpired since she had left Goodneighbor. It was interesting to watch. Pride and fear warred for dominance, only to be beat out by rage. Finally, when Maggie got the part where she had reloaded her gun because she could hear MacCready's voice in her head, he landed back on pride. Her hand had been resting in his as she spoke, gesturing with the other, and he pulled the one in his grasp up to his lips. Maggie's cheeks went pink with a pleased blush and it warmed Adriana's heart to see her so happy.

"You've made your point. You can handle yourself. If you promise me you won't sneak off again, I'll promise not to doubt you," MacCready whispered into the back of her hand.

"I second that," Adriana interjected. "You scared the shit out of us."

"I think that's a fair promise," she acquiesced. "But, I want each of you to make it, too. I could see any one of you sneaking off at some point to handle something on your own. I got really lucky today and I know it. A lot of that could have been avoided with someone to watch my back."

"Deal," Adriana nodded.

"Yeah, I can dig," Hancock added with a smile. "It's always good to have someone watching your six." Adriana felt his hand squeeze her thigh before slipping away to grab an inhaler off the table.

"Promise," Mac added his own whispered agreement as Hancock took a hit, holding it in his lungs for several long moments before releasing it with a dreamy, satisfied smile.

"So, now we just gotta make a plan for findin' and eliminatin' this "boss". What can you tell us about him, Maggie?"

Before she could answer, they heard purposeful footsteps coming up the stairs. They all turned, leaning forward for their weapons, still on edge from the events of the last twenty-four hours.

"You're kinda steppin' on my toes there, John. I figured I'd be the one asking that," Nick said as his fedora and worn trench coat came into view.

"Shit, Nick! If your timin's not impeccable. You been hiding in the shadows just waiting for the perfect opening?" Hancock jumped up to meet his friend at the door, surprised smile lighting his face.

"That one just happened to fall into my lap," the newcomer said as he and the mayor embraced in the way of men, slapping each other firmly on the back.

"Ladies, meet Nick Valentine, the best detective in the whole Commonwealth."

Nick stepped out of the shadowed hallway and Adriana felt her eyes go round as she looked him over. The detective turned his shrewd, glowing gaze to her and smiled knowingly, but kindly nonetheless. He tipped his hat at her.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Adriana stepped forward offering him her hand. If Hancock counted him a friend, then that was good enough for her. As his hand met hers, though, she had to try her best not cringe at the cold metal of his hand on hers.

"I give ya an A for effort," he whispered to her and Adriana relaxed. _I think we're going to get along just fine._


	15. Inextricably Tangled

"Look, I know the skin and metal parts ain't comforting," the detective shrugged with a self deprecating grin, "but it's not important right now. I'm a detective and that seems to fit the bill."

"I couldn't agree more," Adriana said, face relaxing into a more natural smile before releasing his hand.  
Nick had plenty of experience in winning people over, but that didn't change the fact that he would always have to. No one looked at him and thought, _now there's a trustworthy fella._ He should be used to it, but every time someone physically shuddered at his touch he could feel his mechanical heart stutter in his chest. He shook off his insecurities the best he could, focusing on the one thing he knew he could do better than anyone else.

"Now, why don't ya bring me up to speed?" He motioned for everyone to take a seat, crossing to Hancock's desk and grabbing the chair from in front of it. He positioned it between the two sofas and collapsed into it, reaching into his pocket to pull out his notebook and stub of a pencil before propping one foot up on the scarred wood of the coffee table. He placed the notebook on his knee, pencil poised above it and looked out at everyone's expectant expressions.

"Well?" He prompted them, turning his gaze to the woman who had to be Adriana based on Deacon's description. _Intense was definitely the right word._

"Let me start at the beginning," and then she was telling him one of the craziest stories he'd heard out of the Commonwealth yet. Nothing Vault-Tec did truly surprised him anymore, but he was still horrified. _Somehow I doubt the memory loss was an intended side effect._ He didn't ask for details, not yet, just listened. When she finally came to the point where he had walked in, he nodded his thanks and turned to the young ghoul.

He was surprised to see that she wasn't looking at him with any apprehension, her large, black eyes filled with steely determination.

"Well, my dear," his voice finding its most calming tones, mimicking the way the human Nick had spoken to victims during police interviews. He hoped the tear in his artificial skin didn't detract too much from kind smile on his face. The last thing he wanted to do was make her any more uncomfortable. "It seems that you're the only one here who's met the man in question."

He watched as she reached out for MacCready's hand, the young man tenderly wrapping it in both of his. _Maybe she'll be a calming presence on the hot-head, he could sure use it._ Nick just hoped MacCready was as kind to the sweet girl in front of him as he appeared to be.

"As far as I know, he only ever requested me…" her voice trailed off, her hands shaking. She turned her eyes from his to look at Adriana, the older woman nodding once.

Her gaze found his again and he swallowed once, out of habit not necessity.

This was the part she had been dreading. Adriana was the only one who knew the reality of just how terrible they had been to her. They hadn't just used her body, they had stolen it. She looked into the glowing eyes of the detective, comforted by how different they were. It was nice to look into eyes that didn't remind her of what she'd lost or of what she now had. She squeezed the soft hand in hers once before releasing it and scooting forward to the edge of the sofa. _Maybe if I can just focus on him…_

 _Maggie woke to rough hands on under her arms, pulling her up. Her eyes flew open to find a familiar face looking down at hers. Thorne. She wished she could push him away, but for some reason she still wasn't ready to die. That was the worst part of it, really. The realization that you could just run and then your suffering would end. Sure, it would end in your blood and brain matter decorating anything near by, but wouldn't that be better? Better than letting them use her. Better than watching all the endless suffering around her. She hated herself a little more each day for not just ending it all, but she was stubbornly hopeful. Still._

 _As Thorne pulled her to her feet she looked away, eyes finding those of the new girl, round with sympathy. Maggie tried to look brave for her, but was pretty sure she was failing miserably. Thorne only ever took her away when he wanted to do something truly awful to her._

" _Got something special planned for you today," he laughed loudly and all she could do was shudder in fear and put one foot in front of the other._

 _He lead her up the path, out of the quarry and into one of the old trailers that still sat haphazardly around it. She stepped out of the sun and into the shade of the trailer, the change in light disorienting her and leaving spots in her vision. She blinked as Thorne pushed her forward and she fell hard to her hands and knees. She stayed there for a moment, dazed, expecting to feel his knife at her throat while he pressed himself against her, when her eyes adjusted and she realized her nose was just inches away from dusty brown dress shoes. She scrambled back, bumping into Thorne's calves as she did, which elicited a booming laugh from him._

" _What'd I tell ya, Boss? She's quite the looker, ain't she?" He sounded like a proud owner and it made her skin crawl, lips curling into an involuntary snarl._

" _Stand up," the other man ordered. He didn't raise his voice. He spoke like a man that knew he'd be listened to._

 _She did as she was told, careful to keep her eyes pointed down at his shoes as she tried to school her face back into a look of calm indifference. She felt two rough fingers under her chin and then she was looking into cloudy, bloodshot eyes with light blue irises. He turned her head from side to side and then took a step back, motioning for her to turn in a circle. She spun slowly, listening to them discuss her._

" _She is pretty," the sharply dressed ghoul commented._

" _I really think she's ideal for what you're wanting."_

" _I don't know. She looks... fragile."_

 _Thorne laughed._

" _Looks can be deceiving. She's made of steel. Trust me."_

" _Alright. Get the good doctor and make it so," he said, clapping his hands together once. He cupped her cheek in his hand, turning her face to look up at his, smiling. "I hope you're as tough as he says ya are, dollface."  
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss into her forehead with scratchy, dry lips. She was staring at his full head of gray hair, silently worrying about what new horror awaited her, when she felt the needle in her neck. _

_When she came to, it was all at once. Her ears were filled with the sound of frantic screams and she tried to sit up, to see where they were coming from only to realize she was the source of the sound. Her entire body was on fire. It hurt to move. It hurt to lay still. She squirmed against the ground, but the fire raged on. What had they given her? She wailed until she went hoarse and could feel her consciousness blissfully fading. As her vision blurred, someone held a cup to her lips, tipping a few precious drops of water into her mouth._

 _Maggie knew that she wouldn't have survived the following days if the new girl hadn't been there to care for her. She had been there with water whenever Maggie woke, screaming in agony. She had sweet talked Dr. Crocker into parting with some of his Med-X so that she could at least escape to oblivion and, most importantly, she had cared. She hadn't looked at her changing skin in disgust, hadn't shrunk back in fear as her once cute nose deteriorated into nothing and fell off._

 _The new girl even talked them into removing her collar while she was in too much pain to move. She had, ironically, had mixed feelings about that. Part of her was so relieved. It had been so long, longer than she cared to think about, since she had been collarless. However, she had been contemplating finally making a run for it just to end her miserable excuse of an existence. Now if she ran, they'd shoot her and leave her to slowly bleed out. Somehow that wasn't as appealing as going out in one violent moment._

 _Still, at least she had the new girl. She was weird, confused about things that were common knowledge, but she was kind. Maggie would forgive her almost anything after how good to she had been to her and hoped to one day be able to return the favor._

 _It was weeks later, once Maggie had regained her strength that she had been taken to see ghoul in charge again. This time he wasn't waiting at the top of the quarry. They traveled quite a ways before they finally reached their destination. Thorne pulled her forward, dirty fingers digging into her ruined flesh as he used his other hand to punch a code into the keypad on a large, metal security door._

 _She heard the catch release and as the door swung open he laughed._

" _Hope you like what I've brought you, Winter."_

Nick could feel every process in his mechanical body screech to a halt, before kicking into overdrive. _Winter? A ghoul named Winter?_ He wasn't sure if he was relieved or furious. Maybe her was jumping to conclusions, but he had a gut feeling about this one. _Of course that smarmy letch is alive._ The only palliative to ease the renewed ache in his very soul was the realization that he would get to be the one to end the murdering bastard once and for all. _For Jenny._

"Hey, Nick? That name mean somethin' to ya, pal? Cause you've been staring into space with a murderous look about ya for long enough that it's makin' everyone a little antsy," John's voice broke through his fevered ponderings and he came to, shaking his head to try and clear it.

"Actually, yeah. It does. A ghost from another man's past…" he voice trailed off as his mind wandered, getting lost in the twisting labyrinth of two men's lives inextricably tangled.

He felt the pressure of a hand placed on his metal one and looked up to see Maggie kneeling beside him, obsidian eyes large and understanding.

"I guess I'm not the only one here he's wronged," she whispered, the ghost of a kind, sad smile lurking at the edges of her mouth. He placed his good hand on top of her scarred flesh, his thumb absently caressing her.

"Not by a long shot, kid. If this Winter is who I think he is... Well," he exhaled, the sound not quite laugh, "let's just say I've got a score to settle. An old one."

"Then it looks like you're definitely the right detective for the job," she said and he was grateful that she hadn't demanded answers from him just yet. He had too much to sort out before he was ready to share with the whole class. She squeezed his hand, flashing him a knowing smile, before stepping back to rejoin MacCready on the sofa. _No wonder all these people are lining up to help her._

"Look, no offense John, but I think we've gotta move this party to a safer local while we formulate a plan. From what your gal's told me, we're nothin' but a bunch of sitting ducks here."

The mayor looked like he wanted to argue, but knew that he didn't have a leg to stand on.

"Okay, so where do we go?" Hancock asked, reaching into his pocket for his tin of Mentats. He offered it to Adriana, who accepted one of the chalky pills and then he popped two into his own mouth.

"How about we head back to Sanctuary? If we can trust anyone not to sell us out to the slavers, it's their former slaves," MacCready offered.

"That's not a half bad idea, MacCready," Nick said turning to look at him with surprise widened eyes.

"Why do you sound so shocked?" The mercenary asked in a low voice, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"You really want me to answer that, kid?" Nick raised a brow in his direction, but caught the disapproving look on Maggie's face and almost felt bad. "Regardless, I think leaving for Sanctuary in the morning's a good plan. Let's not go advertising our destination, though."

"Sounds good to me," Hancock said, standing up and stretching hugely. "Let's all get some rest. Mac, I want you to stay with Maggie. Hopefully you're more help against an intruder then an escapee. Nick, the office is all yours. Adriana and I have other accommodations." The ghoul laughed, reaching down to pull her to her feet.

Nick caught the hungry look she shot at Hancock and couldn't help but be a little jealous. The only girl that had ever looked at him that way had ended up bleeding out from a bullet Winter had picked out just for her. _Don't worry, darling. I'll make sure he pays. With interest._

Nick wondered if he should worry that the lines between the human Nick and the synth one were especially blurry where Jenny was involved. He sighed, another old habit that just wouldn't die, and tried to rebury the realization that he was in love with a dame he'd never even met. One that died before his mechanical heart had even taken its first beat. _Ain't love a kick in the head?_ He laughed at the truth of the old song lyric, humming the melody under his breath as the couples filtered out of the office.

Adriana and Hancock collapsed into their heap of cushions up in the tower of the State House after quickly shedding their dusty clothes. Falling into his arms was a relief and as he pulled her closer she sighed happily.

"I've missed you," she moaned into the coarse flesh of his chest. He laughed, digging his fingers into her backside and grinding his growing erection against her.

"We've been together all day, doll." He responded, nibbling at her ear.

"Not like this," she countered, bringing him with her as she rolled onto her back. She spread her legs, groaning as he settled between her thighs, the rough skin of his penis hot against her already moist folds.

"You've got me there, sunshine. It definitely wasn't like this." With one of his wicked little smirks he thrust inside of her, both of them sighing in the mutual satisfaction of completion. "Damn, love."

She laughed, a throaty sounding cuckle that only made him want her more, working her hips in perfect syncopation to his rhythm. As their lips crashed together he realized he'd never get enough of her. Even here, moving inside her, mouths locked, it wasn't enough. It was terrifying and consuming, his need of her.

Adriana could feel him trembling and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him flush against her. Their movements stilled as she lost herself to feel of his tongue against hers, the passion, the desire with which he kissed her. He rolled them over so that she was straddling his narrow hips, his hands finding her face.

"Tell me you'll never leave me. Tell me you're mine," his voice cracked as he pressed their foreheads together, eyes searching for hers in the darkness.

"I'm yours, John." Sitting up, she began to move above him, guiding his hands to her hips, before hers found his chest. Their eyes locked together in the dim light, the raw emotion in his charcoal eyes enough to send her hurtling toward completion. "I love you."

He wasn't sure if it was her words or the way she tightened and convulsed around him, but he joined her, gasping out his own pledge of love as he came.

In the aftermath, they clung to each other, still desperate for a closeness they seemed destined to always yearn for.

Maggie watched as RJ toed off his boots and removed his battered, old duster and hat. She removed her own shoes, hesitating over the rest of her clothes. _You've got to change. You're covered in slaver!_ She turned and shed her clothing, hearing RJ's surprised intake of breath as he turned to find her in nothing but her underwear.

MacCready averted his eyes, but not before drinking in the sight of her for one long, glorious moment. He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but her.

She changed quickly, laughing as she dropped down into the mattress clothed in only a large t-shirt.

"You can turn around now, RJ." He tried not to smile at the teasing tone of her voice, but failed utterly. He climbed in next to her and she curled into his side, her sweet sigh of contentment only making him smile more.

"Thank you," he whispered into the top of her head. Everytime he thought about what she had been through today, all because she wanted to help him and his son, he found himself at a loss for words.

"You already said that," she giggled, nestling in closer. "And you're welcome. I do have a question, though."

"Anything," he responded, surprised by how much he meant it.

"Why'd you give the cure to Daisy?"

"Because I trust her to get it to Duncan," he responded, knowing what was coming next.

"Shouldn't you go with it? Won't he need you?" Her voice sounded small against his chest, hesitant.

"He'll be okay where he is until we make sure you're safe. I can't leave you while Winter is still out there." His hand found hers, pulling it up to place a kiss on the back of it.

"Then we'll have to take care of Winter quickly so we can go get Duncan," Maggie said matter of factly.

MacCready thought his heart would give out on him as the meaning of her words sunk in.

"You'd?" His voice faltered. She looked up at him and smiled.

"You couldn't leave me behind if you tried." She reached up with her free hand, patting him on one scruffy cheek.

"It'll be dangerous," he stuttered.

"I know," she laughed. "Just accept it, RJ."

"Okay," he whispered before his lips found hers.


	16. Missing Piece

Deacon watched as the detective stepped out of the State House, pausing on the stoop to light his cigarette with a match from an old, faded book. As he shook the match to vanquish its tiny flame, he looked up, golden eyes glowing brightly over the red cherry. As they locked gazes, Nick descended the stairs and casually made his way to the bench in front of Kill or be Killed, collapsing into it with a careless grace. Deacon waited a few heartbeats before joining him.

"Very strangers on a train of us, don't you think?" Deacon kept his eyes forward, but he heard the synth's appreciative chuckle.

"You're the one that's into all this cloak and dagger stuff," he said around another hit.

"Well, when one is fighting a shadowy organization and overly fond of one's self, one does what one must," Deacon raised his chin, affecting a haughty tone.

"Overly fond?" His eyes narrowed under his fedora, head turning just enough to meet Deacon's gaze. _Touché._

"Self-loathing aside," Deacon smiled charmingly, "what did ya find out?"

As Valentine filled him in he kept his face as neutral as possible, which in his case was pretty damn indiscernible. _So, Valentine's got a personal stake in this as well? Interesting._

"From what young Maggie could tell me, I'd be surprised if he's still operating from his original location. I bet he's got some goons holding down the old fort, though. If someone with a penchant for strolling into places unobserved would go for a walk and take a little peek, maybe they'd find out where old Winter's layin' his head these days."

"Well, I might know a guy who knows a guy that could check into that for ya," Deacon replied while inspecting his dirty fingernails.

"Uh, huh. When you get done with that, swing on by Sanctuary. That's where we'll be," the detective snuffed out his cigarette on the bench between them before dropping it into his coat pocket. He was almost to the door of the State House when he looked back over his shoulder, "You take care of yourself, kid."

Deacon just smiled cockily. He either would be or he wouldn't be. He'd be pretty damn surprised if some low-life thugs were the ones that finally did him in. He was a dead man, sure enough, but it was the Institute that would be cashing that check. He had helped too many synths escape, dealt them too many blows and he knew it was only a matter of time before it all caught up to him. He had accepted his fate long ago, but that was alright, it was nothing less than a fraud like him deserved anyway. He stood up, slouching his way out of Goodneighbor, thinking that he'd like to do just a little more good before his time came. He might never be able to totally even out the scales, but he was damn well gonna try. _It's what she would have wanted._  
-

MacCready watched as Maggie looked into the sight of his rifle, took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The last of the ferals that had been lurking below fell to the ground and didn't get back up. She looked back over her shoulder at him, beaming.  
"Did you see that?"

"He-ck yeah! You're getting really good, sweetie!" MacCready froze, embarrassed by the endearment, but Maggie looked so pleased that he managed to recover fairly quickly, clearing his throat self consciously. "Seriously. You'll be a pro in no time."

"It's all because I have such a skilled teacher," she responded with a slow smile, stepping in closer to him.

MacCready tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, but he was apparently stuck with it as she twined her fingers between his. She tugged slightly and he found himself taking the last few steps to close the distance between them. His left hand was caught in hers and his right seemed to be moving of its own accord. He took his rifle from her, hanging it from his shoulder by its worn strap before reaching up to run his fingers through her hair. Her lips parted as she sighed in either enjoyment or anticipation, he wasn't sure which. He leaned down to kiss her, his tongue wasting no time in exploring her mouth as her right hand found his waist and pulled him closer with surprising force.

He laughed against her mouth, "A little impatient, hon?"  
"You have no idea," she whispered back, the seriousness in her voice making his breath quicken.

"Surely you know by now that I can't say no to you, at least not for long." It was nothing less than the truth. She had smashed every barrier he had built to keep people out, no matter how quickly he had tried to reinforce them. He knew now that there was no fighting it. He was hers.

The smile that spread slowly on her face at his words was nothing less than dangerous. She rose up to place a kiss against the tender flesh beneath his jaw, right over his pulse. He wondered if she could feel it surge beneath her lips at the touch.

"I'll keep that in mind," she whispered before stepping back out of his arms.

 _Damn_ , MacCready thought as he watched her walk off to find Adriana, _she might be the death of me yet._

While they were passing Concord, Adriana pulled Maggie aside, letting the men get ahead of them so they could talk in privacy. She had been watching Maggie and RJ all day and it was obvious where their relationship was heading.

"So, looks like the two of you are getting, uh… close?" Adriana laughed, realizing how absurd she sounded. Maggie looked over at her and dissolved into laughter.

"Think it's a little late for the sex talk, sis," the younger woman pointed out.

"I know, but it's different with someone you care about, Mags. Really."

"Well, I certainly hope so!" Maggie joked, but then she took a deep breath, trying to be serious instead of flippant. "Sorry, I think I really am nervous. This is completely new territory for me."

Adriana wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"I know exactly how you feel. My best advice is to just be honest with each other, really communicate about what you want. And Rad-X. For him. Lots of it."

The two of them dissolved into laughter again, which prompted Adriana to tell her the story of Daisy giving her some Rad-X for her first time with Hancock. They laughed all the way to the old Red Rocket Gas Station.

Before they got back into hearing distance of the men, Adriana slipped a couple of the pills into Maggie's pocket, kissing her on the top of the head.

"You know if you have any questions or just need to talk, I'm always here."

"I know, sister," Maggie whispered.

When they caught up to the men, Hancock wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they headed toward the old bridge into town, shaking his head. When she asked him what was up he just laughed.

"You ladies enjoy your girl talk?"

"Oh, hush." She rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the simple comfort of his touch.

As they walked across the bridge, they heard a familiar voice call out to them and as she shielded her eyes from the setting sun she saw Preston waving from a tall guard post at the entrance of town.

"Open the gate! We've got visitors!"

Preston disappeared from sight, only to reappear in their path on the other side of the opening gate.

"How've things been since we left?" Adriana asked as she hurried forward to hug him. He returned her embrace, lifting her off the ground in his exuberance.

"Good, good! Didn't expect to have you back our way so soon!" He disentangled himself from Adriana and turned to Maggie, his already huge grin growing. "There's my girl! How are you, my dear?"

Maggie disappeared into his arms, returning his hug just as exuberantly as MacCready huffed his annoyance. Adriana had to look away from his pouty face in order to keep from laughing. _Oh, RJ… you're wasting your energy._

"Great and terrible," she replied with a laugh.  
"Let me know if I can do anything to help with the terrible," Preston always wore his emotions on his face and he was the kind of guy that if he offered you his help, he meant it.

"You might regret that offer, because that's precisely why we're here," she said sheepishly.

"Girl, you know I would do anything to help you after… Just count me in. Now, you guys want to introduce me to your friend here?"

"Oh, sorry! This is Nick Valentine. He's a detective," Adriana said and the men stepped forward, shaking hands.

"Nice to meet ya, Preston, was it? I've heard nothing but good things. Look, is there a place where the lot of us could speak in privacy?"

"Straight to business! I like you already. Of course, follow me," Preston turned, leading them away, the sound of the gate closing behind them reassuring after everything they'd been through.

Adriana's hand found Hancock's as they followed Preston into the settlement. She relaxed slightly, knowing that they were surrounded by friends, in company of people that shared a common enemy. As much as she loved Goodneighbor and it's rough crowd of characters, she felt truly in the company of friends here.

Preston opened the door to his house, holding it for them to file in passed him. Adriana smiled as Sturges' face lit up in happy surprise, making his way to her and wrapping her in his arms.

"Didn't think we'd be seeing you again so soon! How come I get the feeling this ain't strictly a social call?"

"Cause this is the Commonwealth," Nick interjected, one corner of his synthetic mouth pulled into a smile.

"Ain't that the truth!" Sturges laughed, pulling away from her to shake hands with Nick.

They all sat down around the living room, Preston pulling in some chairs from the dining room table so that everyone would have a seat. Once everyone one was situated, Preston and Sturges both looked to her, just like Nick had. _Why does everyone assume I'm in charge? Hancock's a mayor for Christ's sake!_ She took a deep breath and proceeded to catch the two men up on what had happened since they had left Sanctuary.

The twin looks of shock and anger on Preston and Sturges' faces only reaffirmed her belief that they had come to the right place. After having spent so much time working with Winter's other victims to make Sanctuary a home again they had a vested interest in making sure the asshole paid.

"You definitely came to the right place. Maggie," Preston stood up and crossed to where she was sitting on the sofa, MacCready standing behind her with a watchful expression on his face, "we'll do anything we can to keep you safe. You can count on that. I'm gonna go increase the number of people on watch, just to make sure there are no surprises."

Preston tipped his large brimmed hat at them before hurrying out the door.

"Now, let's figure out where ya'll are gonna be stayin'. I kinda doubt the ole Red Rocket's secure enough," Sturges pointed out, taking charge of the situation. Adriana leaned back into the joint comforts of the sofa and Hancock's arm around her shoulders, more than happy to pass on the heavy responsibility of leadership, if only temporarily.

Deacon had almost reached the hole that Winter had scurried into in order to avoid both justice and the bombs. Winter seemed to have come to some kind of understanding with the Raiders that had moved into the subway that led to his hideout and they were still protecting it. In the interest in fitting in with the natives, Deacon was dressed in ratty leather pants and harness. Instead of his normal shades he had donned his fanciest gas mask, complete with goggles. To tie the whole look together he was carrying a baseball bat, because only Raiders were dumb enough to bring a bat to a gunfight. _And I thought Skinny's guys were easy to get by. This is ridiculous._

He hadn't even needed to assume a name. The one guy that challenged him had received a healthy smack upside his head with Deacon's bat, making his fellows laugh so hard they doubled over, pointing at their fallen friend. Deacon had stepped over the poor bastard, leaning his bat back against his shoulder and strolling away casually, which had only further entertained them.

When he reached the large security door, it was standing open and there were a couple of guys talking on the other side of it. He leaned back against the wall and lit a cigarette, all the while listening to their conversation.

"Look, the boss wants more of this shit sent up to Kendall with the next supply run," thug one said.

"Again? We just sent some with the last one," thug number two complained.

Deacon didn't know what the hell they were sending, but he knew where. Kendall must be Kendall Hospital. _So now we know where Winter's hiding. Time to change the season on him._ Deacon chuckled to himself. _There's never anyone around for my best lines._ He snuffed out his cigarette and started to meander off.

"Hey, you! Come give me a hand with this!" By the sound of it, thug number two had spotted him and was pointing to a crate at his feet. Deacon flicked his butt away and did as he was told. Couldn't hurt to find out what Winter was so eager to have more of. As he leaned over to pick up the crate, his heart nearly stopped. He was thankful for the gas mask, because not even his glasses would have hidden his reaction. _More of those fucking collars. He must have crates of the things._ Deacon's eyes were wide with horror behind the safety of his goggles.

"Carry that up to the old sub shop along with the other supplies going," the guy said, gesturing behind him, the opposite way that Deacon had come. He nodded and headed off in the indicated direction. There were a couple Raiders up ahead, but they just nodded, one even holding the door open for him. _How polite._

When Deacon got topside, there were no Raiders to be found, so he just kept walking, crate still in hand. He knew it wouldn't make much of a difference, it was only one crate after all, but he couldn't just leave them there to be put around the necks of the innocent. He hurried toward his next outfit change, relieved that it included a messenger bag. _Time to make for Sanctuary._

Deacon's steps slowed just a bit as he realized that his time of lurking in shadows around _her_ was coming to an end. He was filled with anxiety at the prospect. He had been watching her for so long that he already knew her. He knew the scent of the soap she used in her hair and the way she laughed may as well have been recorded on a holotape, because he played it over and over again in his mind. _At least once I meet her, maybe I can be the cause of that laugh._ It was that thought, more than anything else, that got his feet back in line. He knew he didn't have a lot to offer, but a laugh? _I'm good for that._

Sturges had led them to the community house, where dinner was being served, and after they had eaten he had taken them back up the road to a new structure located next to Sturges' workshop. He opened the door and flipped a switch, flooding the place with light.

"No one's moved in here yet and it's smack dab in the middle of town, where you'll be the most protected. There are bedrooms up the stairs, completely furnished. Just pick whatever rooms strike your fancy. I figure you're all pretty tuckered out, so I'll leave ya'll to rest up," Sturges turned to leave with a little wave, a chorus of thank yous following him out.

"Well, you kids should go ahead and turn in, I'll hold down the fort," Nick said, sauntering over to a little sitting area. He plopped down into the sofa's embrace, reaching forward to grab a comic off the coffee table and then leaning back to leaf through it.

"What issue is that?" MacCready asked before he could think better of it.

"The one where the bad guys do something bad and then the good guys stop them," Nick replied without looking up, flipping to the next page.

MacCready exhaled dramatically. _Why did I think he'd ever give me straight answer?_

"Jerk," he muttered under his breath as he headed up the stairs. _I'll get a look at it tomorrow._

"Sweet dreams to you too, kid," the detective said with a chuckle.

Maggie glared at him and Nick had the good sense to look at least marginally apologetic under her gaze.

"I'll leave it here for him to read in the morning," the detective promised and she rewarded him with a sweet smile.

"Goodnight, Nick," was her only response before heading up the stairs after RJ, waving at Adriana and Hancock as she passed them. As she ascended, she could hear the three talking, but she wasn't really interested in anything other than finding Mac.

MacCready made a room selection, picking one with a full sized bed, assuming that Maggie and he would be sleeping together. _Just sleeping. That's it._ He remembered the way she had smiled at him earlier, though. He might be a little slow sometimes, but not even he had any doubts about what she had been thinking of. Thinking about something in the bright light of day, removed from the situation was one thing, but in the moment? Who knew how she'd actually feel then? He didn't want her to feel pressured and he was having a hard time sorting out his own feelings as it was.

Maggie found the room he was in, but she stood in the door frame, just watching him silently for a moment. He seemed to be lost in thought, brow furrowed, jaw clenched tightly. She knew what she wanted and she thought she knew what he wanted, but it had to be more difficult for him. She'd never been in love before, never lost the person she thought she'd spend forever with. His scars were only now truly healing and she didn't want to rush him, but it was growing more and more difficult with every kiss, every touch of his hand.

He looked up to find her watching him and just like that his frown disappeared, replaced with a sweet, boyish smile. She felt the corners of her mouth turning up in response as she pushed away from the door frame, pulling the door shut behind her before dropping her bag on the dresser that lined the adjoining wall and sitting down beside him.

"I got Nick to promise to leave that comic on the table for you to read in the morning," she told him as she reached for his hand.

"You did? See? It's things like that that make me love you," he said with a laugh before his eyes went round, his whole body freezing.

Maggie's breath caught in her throat and she could feel tears welling in her eyes. She tried to respond, but no words came out. Her shaking hand just clinging tightly to his frozen one, eyes locked on his. One moment they were staring at each other in shock and in the next they were in each other's arms, lips meeting hungrily while hands roamed every inch they could find. It felt like a dream, unreal and impossible. After all the terrible things that had happened, she couldn't believe this was where she was, in the arms of a man that loved her.

She pulled away as she realized she had forgotten something important.

"I love you, too."

He brushed her hair back out of her face, taking a deep breath.

"For once in my life, everything's going right and I have you to thank for it," he whispered. He kissed her on the forehead before continuing. "Having you this close to me has made me happier than I've ever been before."

"I know the feeling, RJ. Until you guys showed up to save me, I thought I'd never be happy again. You've done just as much for me as I have for you, silly."

She closed the small space between them, pressing her lips softly to his in silent thanks. His hands found her small waist and gently pulled her into his lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Maggie could feel that familiar storm rising within her at his touch, spurred on by the gentle pressure of his hands on her hips and the low moan that escaped him as she tried to move their already chest to chest bodies closer.

"You're making it hard to be a gentleman," he whispered against her mouth. She pulled back just enough for him to catch the dangerous glint in her pitch black eyes.

"I'd never ask you to something you aren't," she teased, finding the spot under his jaw with her teeth that always made him squirm all the while pulling her closer.

The sound he made, a needy little grunt, made her grind against him in desire and at the feel of the stiffness in his pants it was her turn to make her own desperate sound.

"Do you really want to…" he asked, sounding afraid to hear the answer.

"I do. I know I'm probably not what you're used to, but-" she was interrupted by his lips on her, rough and demanding.

"You're right. You're not." Maggie could feel her heart stuttering in her chest. His words hurt, of course, but they were no less than the truth, so how could she fault him? "You're so much more than I could have ever hoped for and definitely way better than I deserve. Don't ever think you're anything less than beautiful, inside and out." His hands held her face tightly, making her look into his piercingly blue eyes.

"But…" she faltered under the weight of his regard, searching for the words to tell him just how wrong he was.

"But nothing. I'm a selfish, hot-headed idiot. How you stand me at all is baffling," his charming, self-deprecating smile grabbed a hold of her heart in a vice grip.

"Trust me, it's not so difficult," she said in a voice that had gone soft around the edges as she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands found their way back down to her hips, kneading them gently.

"Let me show you my appreciation," he said, one side of his mouth pulled up into a naughty little smirk.

"Yes, please." Her voice sounded strange in her own ears as he shifted his weight, turning to lay her down on the bed.

He undressed them both, slowly, kissing each part of her as he revealed it. He was determined to take his time with her, worship her the way she deserved. He ached with the want of her, but he knew she had bore the pain of too many other men's wants with no regard for her own and he was going to take his time if it killed him. She was so sweet beneath his touch, gasping and whispering his name in a reverent way that only strengthen his resolve to do right by her.

By the time they were both naked, RJ sliding under the covers next to her, she could feel a need deep within her like she had never before experienced. She wanted him inside her with a fierceness that bordered on pain and as he kissed her neck, his hand finally finding its way between her thighs, she thought she'd come undone with nothing more than his finger. He entered her gently, one finger massaging her while his thumb worked her in a way she hadn't even been aware was a possibility. She arched her back, moving against his hand, feverishly chasing a feeling she had yet to experience.

MacCready looked down at the flushed face of the woman beside him and couldn't believe his dumb luck. _She's perfect._ He kissed her, removing his hand so that he could brace himself above her. As he sank between her thighs, her hands explored his bare skin, tracing the length of his spine and finally settling on his prominent hip bones.

"You're sure?" He couldn't keep the words from his lips, even though he knew she was.

"For you? Always, love."

He reached down, guiding himself to her entrance. As he nudged forward, she dug her fingers into his flesh, urging him forward, but he took his time. He entered her slowly, which took more self control than he knew he possessed. She was just so deliciously warm around him.

Maggie thought she would scream in frustration at how slowly he was moving. When he finally gave in and pushed the last few inches of himself into her in one swift motion all she could do was sigh in relief. It felt like she had finally found something she had always been missing, like he had held this missing piece of her this whole time. Her eyes flew open, only just realizing they were closed, to find his. She had never felt this kind of connection with another person and she hoped he was feeling the same thing she was.

"I love you," he whispered, voice breaking around the words and she knew that he felt it, too.

After a moment he began to move his hips, taking them away only to return them and she found herself meeting his with hers, the two of them keeping perfect time.

"I love you, too," she gasped as he found her with his tongue.

They met, again and again, both of their breaths coming shorter and faster until she didn't think she could bear it another moment. He thrust deep, taking her by surprise. He leaned back onto his knees, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her towards him with his next thrust and she felt like she was unraveling, falling to pieces in hands and damn if she wasn't exactly where she wanted to be.

RJ heard her cry out, hands twisting into the sheets as she arched her back, her walls clenching tightly around him as she came. He held onto her hips, holding himself deep inside her as he watched her lose herself before him with her eyes closed, mouth open, gasping his name. He didn't think he had ever seen a more erotically beautiful sight. He withdrew one last time, thrusting forward as he joined her with cry of his own.

They held each other close in the calm after the storm of their love, sharing tender kisses and whispered vows of love. RJ only reluctantly left her embrace to fetch her some water and turn off the light before collapsing back into her waiting arms. Right as they were about to drift off, Maggie shot up, startling him, eyes large with concern.

"Adriana told me you needed to take Rad-X if we were going to, uh… do that."

The look of worry on her sweet face was too cute.

"That's what Rad-Away's for, my dear. Never fear," he reassured her, kissing her on the cheek. "You can hook me up to a steady drip tomorrow."

Relieved, she burrowed into his chest and quickly fell asleep, the sounds of her even breathing lulling him into his own restful slumber.


	17. Winter's End

Deacon passed the old Red Rocket, heart rate increasing exponentially with every step. _I'm being ridiculous. This is no big deal. I'm just recruiting. That's it._ That wasn't it, though, and he damn well knew it. He had never gone to such drastic lengths to bring someone new into the fold, no matter how talented they were. Yes, they desperately needed new members, but even he couldn't deny there was more to it. _Yes you can. You can absolutely keep denying. Denial is your bread and butter, your lifeblood, second in importance only to elaborate and frequent lies._

Not only was Deacon unsettled by the idea of stepping out of the scenery, but also because of his lingering guilt. He had been there that day she had been captured. He had seen her step off that platform, legs shaking like a newborn fawn taking its first steps, and stumble straight into the arms of her enslavers. There had just been so many of them. He had told Desdemona, blowing into the crypt under the Old North Church like the Institute was on his ass, but she had decided that they didn't have the resources to retrieve someone that may or may not have a connection to the Institute.

Deacon had hounded her relentlessly, but she hadn't budged. He and his binoculars had spent many an evening tucked into the rocks surrounding the quarry, looking for any glimpse of her while fearing that he had finally reached the evening where she wouldn't be found. He worried about her constantly, making him distracted on missions and causing him to be sloppy. He had half convinced himself to try and break her out, or at least die in a blaze of glory trying, when she had made her escape. He had even snuck into their camp, well, walked into it like he belonged, but he hadn't been able to find a remote for her collar. He wasn't about to break her out only to w atch her head explode. He had hung around longer than was advised, but hadn't ended up leaving empty handed.

It had only been by sheerest luck that he had been there, that he had seen the emaciated blur that was the pale shade of the gorgeous creature that had risen from within the depths of Vault 111. He didn't approach her, but he was determined that this time she would make it to safety. He followed along, fighting off enemies as they came. He couldn't keep her completely from injury, there were just too many assailants on her bumbling, frantic flight towards freedom. Even with his help she almost didn't make it to Goodneighbor alive. He had been working up the courage to step forward and open the door for her after she had fallen down, too weak to budge the sturdy weight of the metal, but then Hancock had appeared in the doorway, holding his hand out to her like some kind of ghoulified angel, stealing away the moment that Deacon wished he'd been brave enough to claim.

Now he had to go meet her. Face to face. He had to go look her in the eyes and, worst of all, let her see him. Sure, he'd be hidden behind his shades, but he had a feeling that even his glasses wouldn't be enough to hide his regret and shame. From the minute he heard the ground rumbling with the groaning of metal gears left still for too long he knew his life was never going to be the same again.

He could see the newly added walls surrounding the growing settlement, a shadowed figure leaning up against the repurposed wood, a trail of smoke wafting up to dissipate above their head. As Deacon neared, the person raised their head and Nick's yellow eyes met his, burning brightly from under his fedora.

"We gotta quit meeting like this, kid," the old detective chuckled taking one last hit, some of the smoke escaping from the exposed metal of his neck and jaw, before snuffing out his cigarette. "I hope you managed to scare up some intel."

Deacon pulled the strap of the messenger bag over his head and thrust it at the synth, taking a step back.

"There's not a head in here, right? I know the Romans liked that kind of thing but…" Nick unbuckled the clasp, peering inside. A long, low whistle escaped him as he shook his head.

"He's got cases of them. Enough collars to, well, do what he's doing." Deacon just couldn't find it in him to joke about the situation. It made him nauseous to think about all the people that were in danger.

"This just confirms it. I knew that bastard had government connections. Hell, maybe even military from the looks of it. There's no other way he could have these." Nick looked up, meeting Deacon's eyes. _I wonder if he can see through my sunglasses…_ Deacon had never seen the datective look so sinisterly gleeful. "Well, his high ranking officials aren't here to keep him safe now."

Nick tried to hand the bag back to him, but he held his hands up and took a step back. He tried to turn around, hoping to slink off into the darkness, but Nick stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Alright, then. Let's get this over with," Deacon sighed with resignation. Facing his fears wasn't exactly his strong suit. Especially when his fears and his dreams were one and the same.

Adriana pulled her book down and looked up into Hancock's face, unable to keep the smile from spreading across her face. They had spent most of the day preparing, but after an early dinner they had all decided to take a break and just relax. Adriana and Hancock had been lounged on the sofa reading ever since, her head pillowed on his thighs.

Hancock could feel her eyes on him and looked down, chuckling at the sweet smile that met his gaze. He watched as she laid her book down on her stomach, still open so as not to lose her page, and then reached up for his face. He turned his own book around, draping it open over the arm of the sofa, and then leaned down to oblige her. She met him halfway, neck craning, hands on either side of his face.

She sighed happily into his mouth as he deepened the kiss. He was so warm against her. His left hand cradled the back of her head, supporting her, pulling her closer, and she felt her ever present need of him flare up to unmanageable heights once again. Using his shoulders for leverage she pulled herself up into his lap, the book tumbling off her to land, forgotten, on the floor. Legs still stretched out to the side, her body twisted at the waist and their mouths locked, she could only think of one place she'd rather be. Bed.

The door of the house opened and two sets of feet sounded on the wooden floor boards. Adriana broke off the kiss, resting her forehead to his and feeling the vibrations of his deep chuckle move through her.

"Don't worry, love. To be continued," he promised, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose.

Adriana turned to see who had arrived, finding Nick's familiar visage accompanied by someone who looked like both a stranger and a friend. _Maybe he's just got one of those faces?_ He was standing a step or two behind Valentine, peering over the synth's shoulder at her. He was wearing sunglasses, even though the sun had long since set and he was indoors. _Strange_. Weirdest of all, he seemed nervous. She wasn't exactly sure what gave her that impression, as he wasn't fidgeting or making any kind of facial expression to speak of, but he was undeniably uncomfortable.

"Have we met before?" Adriana pushed herself up out of Hancock's lap and walked over to him, Nick stepping to the side to reveal the full image of him. He was tall, taller than he looked with his shoulders slightly slouched. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt that had a small tear over his right pec and another up by the collar. She could see her reflection in the lenses of his sunglasses and his mouth was neither smiling nor frowning, held carefully neutral. Adriana held out her hand, offering it to him, and he looked down at it for a long moment before finally moving to place his hand in hers.

"No, we haven't met before. I get that a lot though. I must just have one of those faces," he joked, echoing her thoughts. His hand clasped hers and something unspoken passed between them and she knew he felt it, too. His whole posture changed. There was something about the nondescript man that made him stand out to her, but she couldn't have put the feeling into words. The pressure of his hand on hers increased before he suddenly released her, taking a small, involuntary step back.

"I'm Adriana," she offered after an awkward few moments of silence.

"Deacon," he replied.

"So, you must be the scout Nick sent to check out Winter's old lair?"

"Scout?" His eyebrows drew together for a moment before smoothing back out again as he nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, right. That'd be me. Best scout in the whole 'Wealth!"

As he spoke, telling them what he found, she watched in interest as he seemed to step into the role of " Nick's scout." He seemed to be affecting mannerisms and speech patterns to go along with the title. She wasn't sure why she was certain that she wasn't meeting the real Deacon, _if that's even his real name,_ but she was positive. She liked to think it was due to Nora's training, that she wasn't just pulling something out of nothing, but only time would tell.

"Kendall Hospital, eh?" Valentine interjected, nodding his head thoughtfully. "That building's rather large, if I'm remembering correctly. We're definitely going to need all the people we can get on this one."

"Count me in, Boss." Deacon volunteered, turning to smile at the Detective who had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

"Thank you for getting this information for us, Deacon. You have no idea how much this means to me," Adriana said, placing a hand on his bicep for just a moment before turning to Hancock.

 _I know exactly how much it means to you. That's why I did it._ That was only one of the thousands of things he wanted to say to her. Instead he had just donned a new disguise, Nick's scout, and blew past anything other than the crucial information. He nodded along as the three of them made their plans and then Adriana and Hancock excused themselves, Nick promising to fill in Maggie and MacCready. They left the room, but not before Adriana had touched him on the arm in farewell. Again. Every touch of her flesh on his felt like the time he had accidentally shocked himself while trying to repair a generator. Only worse.

He watched as she walked up the stairs, Hancock's hand finding hers. _I'm not jealous,_ he lied, before turning to face Nick.

"I think you left a lot of the story out, pal. Don't you?" Nick raised one brow in his direction, head turned to look over his shoulder.

"I hit the highlights."

"Hardly," he scoffed, "but I don't suppose it's really any of my business. As my newest employee, though, I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning. We're going to need all the capable help we can get and since you volunteered…"

"Sure thing, Boss."

"There are extra rooms upstairs, why don't you head on up and make yourself comfortable?"

Deacon nodded and then took his leave of the detective, heading up the same stairs that Adriana had disappeared up.

There were several rooms to chose from and Deacon, being the masochist that he was, settled into the room next to the one that was currently emitting the familiar sounds of a good time. A very good time. He kicked off his shoes and laid down on top of the patched blanket, clasping his hands behind his head. _It's going to be a long night_ , he thought as yet another moan escaped through the thin wall. _A long, uncomfortable night._

Adriana sunk down around him and they moaned in mutual satisfaction as he filled her completely. She smiled down at him as she worked her hips, undulating in a way that had him clutching the sheets and curling his toes.

"Just like that, love." His voice broke over the endearment and she smiled down at him, wild glint in her eye.

"That feel good, baby?" She asked in a teasing lilt as she drew her arms up behind her head, one travelling back down, gliding over her neck and chest to toy with her own nipple.

"You're killing me," he groaned, watching her pinch and tug at the sensitive skin, her hips keeping up their seductive movements.

"If you like this, then you're really going to like what comes next," she laughed, low and throaty, reaching out for him. Using their tightly clasped hands for leverage, she readjusted her legs so that her feet were supporting her instead of her knees so she could move up and down his length, increasing in speed as she went.

"Holy. Hell." Hancock gasped out, her fingernails digging into his irradiated flesh as her muscular thighs worked. "I'm about to-!"

Adriana slammed into him, taking him all in and grinding against him as he cried out. His strangled cry as he came along with the the sensation of his cock pulsing as his warm seed filled her sent her over the edge and she came, throwing her head back as her body convulsed in pleasure, hands still clinging desperately to his.

"Damn. Is it a special occasion or somethin'? Cause that was… wow." Hancock mumbled a little while later as she laid with her head on his chest, his fingers combing through her short hair. It had grown out enough that it stuck out in all directions, but it wasn't long enough to lay flat yet. She hated it, but she was determined to let it grow.

"Babe, every time we're together feels like a special special occasion."

"Ain't that the truth!" He laughed, nuzzling his face into the top of her head.

It was several days before they felt prepared enough to finally go after Winter. There were weapons to clean and armor to mend. They had to sort through the people that had volunteered to go and decide who to take. It was tricky business trying to strike a balance, because they couldn't leave Sanctuary unprotected, but they also didn't want to get there and realize they hadn't brought enough help. Preston and Adriana went back and forth, debating the list, worried that no matter what choices they made, they would be the wrong ones.

They left at first light, four days after Deacon had arrived in Sanctuary. Sturges was staying behind to look after the settlement, but he sent Preston off with a very memorable kiss that had the General blushing long after the town had faded from sight.

There wasn't a lot of talk among them as the made their way to Kendall hospital. Almost everyone was feeling rather circumspect in both words and actions, fearing not only what they would find when they showed up on Winter's doorstep, but the trip there. Travel in the Commonwealth was always risky and although there was safety in numbers, numbers also attracted attention, one thing they definitely didn't want.

They hadn't made it very far before they came across an altercation at the old Drumlin Diner. Some chem dealers were trying to collect payment from a woman that owned a little shop after they hooked her kid on drugs. If one thing pissed Hancock off, it was selling chems to children. With Adriana by his side and an entire entourage to boot, he wasn't worried at all. They listened to both sides, but when the chem dealers, idiots that they were, pulled their guns, they were both dead before they could even pull back the hammer.

They left quickly after, not wanting to waste anymore time when they had a date with Winter. The hospital wasn't terribly far and they had almost reached it by the time the sun was at its apex. They checked the doors, but there was only one way in. Sturges had made them more jammers to keep the slavers from detonating the collars of anyone inside and they hid some of them around the building, taking a few of them inside as well. They did not want a repeat of what had happened at the quarry.

"Guess we're going in the front. Everyone ready?" Adriana looked around with her shoulders back and head held high, making eye contact with each and every one of them. She saved Hancock for last and when their eyes met, he winked, smiling. He was ready for a good fight. He was ready to make sure that Winter wasn't responsible for even one more slave collar being latched around someone's neck.

"Let's go kick some ass, doll." He reached forward and opened the door.

Maggie and MacCready had spent the trip quietly holding hands in the middle of the group, Mac occasionally looking through his weapon's scope to check for trouble. The last few days had been magic, except for the looming threat of Winter. MacCready hadn't even tried to convince her to stay in Sanctuary, because he knew nothing he could say would keep her from joining them. He knew she felt responsible, but this wasn't just about her. Winter had a laundry list of reasons why he needed to be put down.

During the day they had trained, hard. RJ hadn't been easy on her, but she felt prepared and it had been worth every bruise when he spent every evening making it up to her.

"You're very complex, RJ," she had said to him one night, smiling up at him from the hollow of his shoulder.

"I don't think anyone's ever accused me of being complex before, Mags," he'd replied with a laugh.

"Relentless task master by day, gentle lover by night!" She said in her best approximation of the Silver Shroud's voice. He had played her an old holotape on the Pip-Boy Adriana had insisted she keep and, in her opinion, she was pretty spot on. RJ laughed, smiling so broadly his eyes went adorably squinty.

"You know, I can be just as relentless here in bed."

He hadn't been lying.

The fight had been going as planned, Maggie and Mac hanging back, using rifles to pick off threats while some of the others ran ahead. The only problem was that no one had seen Winter. His men were dropping left and right, untrained and ill prepared, no match for the likes of Preston, Adriana, and Hancock.

Just when she wasn't sure that they were going to find him, she caught movement out of her peripherals. She turned in time to catch a glimpse of the old ghoul scurrying away like the rat he was. _No! He can't escape!_ Maggie looked around, but Mac had wandered too far to hear her over the din. Throwing her rifle over her shoulder by the strap and pulling out her pistol, she ran after him.

She followed him into the basement, where he obviously was hoping for an alternate exit. He made it to the middle of the room before coming to a stop next to a large, rusted cage. Without turning around he addressed her.

"You gonna shoot me, doll? Or are all those weapons just for decoration?" His voice made her skin crawl. Now that she had been with MacCready, now that she knew what love was and how sex could be, it only made her more disgusted with the man before her. She raised her pistol as he slowly turned around, a smile spreading across his scarred face. "I always knew I'd get you back."

Maggie opened her mouth, but her voice couldn't be heard over the deafening roar that filled the room. For once in their lives, Winter and she shared identical looks of terror as the Deathclaw burst into the room.

MacCready couldn't find Maggie. She wasn't anywhere. She wasn't among any of their friends, but she also wasn't among the dead bodies that littered the floor. Suspiciously enough, neither was Winter. Mac wasn't the only one getting worried about the lack of Winter. He could hear Valentine railing about it to Deacon as he rushed from room to room, checking every dead body he came to himself.

"He isn't here, damn it!" The synth looked around to see his dismay reflected on all of their faces.

"Yeah, and neither is Maggie," Mac added. He didn't expect the look of disgust that the detective turned on him, walking forward while pointing his exposed metal finger at him.

"You had one job, kid. Why am I not surprised that you couldn't even manage that?"

"Well, I'm not the only one here that didn't accomplish their one job. Where's Winter, Valentine?" MacCready taunted, giving as good as he got.

"Can't we all just get along?" Deacon stepped forward, mouth open, when the unmistakable sound of a Deathclaw's cry rang up through the floor.

Everybody froze for the duration of the sound, but as soon as it ceased, all hell broke loose. Adriana yelled Maggie's name and they all took off trying to find their way to the basement, both afraid to take too long and dreading what they might find when they arrived.

Deacon was the first one to reach the basement, MacCready and Nick hot on his heels, everyone else paces behind them. As the two of them blew into the cavernous room, they stood with mouths open at the sight before them.

Maggie was pointing to Winter, screaming at the Deathclaw to eat him when to everyone's surprise, especially Winter's, the monster obliged her, crossing to where Winter was standing. Shaking and wide eyed, he tried to unholster his weapon, but was interrupted by a swipe of the Deathclaw's large talons. It lowered its monstrous head to take a large, bone crushing bite with its powerful jaws.

"Holy shit," Deacon whispered, raising his voice a bit as he said, "She's a Deathclaw Charmer."

MacCready couldn't help but agree that that was definitely how it looked.

"I've been waiting over two hundred years to kill that bastard and he gets done in by a Deathclaw?" The forlorn tone of Nick's voice brought a fierce joy to MacCready and he turned, smiling smugly at the detective.

"Guess that's one thing you can mark off your to-do list," he quipped, patting him companionably in the shoulder.

"You guys just gonna stand there? Or are we gonna get the fuck outta here before that thing finishes it's Winter snack?" Maggie called to them, turning to scurry away.

"What do we have to be afraid of? We're travelling with the Deathclaw Charmer," Mac joked, strolling over to her with a casual air that was definitely formed of false bravado. Maggie groaned.

"Deathclaw Charmer? Please don't tell me that's going to be a thing now," she commented as Nick went to flip the electrical switch to power the basement door, Adriana running forward to wrap her in a tight embrace.

"Hey, Deacon started it. Don't go blaming me," MacCready laughed, holding up his hands.

"I was just gonna call you Charmer, you know, for short." Deacon grinned as she rolled her eyes.

"That will never catch on," she said as Mac pulled the door open for the ladies to hurry through.

"Challenge accepted."

It had taken most of the day to find all the captives and remove their collars. They were given the option to either take a weapon and some armor from the dead slavers and make their own way or come along to Sanctuary where they could make a new home. Preston even offered to arrange to escort people back to their homes after checking back in with Sanctuary.

The sun would be setting soon, but no one felt comfortable staying in a building that housed a Deathclaw and an obscene amount of dead bodies. They decided after little debate to make the trek back to Sanctuary, moving out as quickly as possible. The trip would take longer now that they had to go at the pace of the former slaves. Adriana knew the only thing keeping them on their feet was a desperate desire to get far away from the place where they had been imprisoned. She knew the feeling all too well.

Among those that had decided to make Sanctuary their new home was a woman that was sporting the firm bump of a pregnancy on her emaciated frame. She probably looked further along than she truly was because of how thin she was. Adriana dug in her bag, pulling out a can of water and popping the top before passing it to the woman, who looked hesitant, but didn't refuse the gift.

"Thanks. My name's Talitha," the woman offered, sipping the water with a beatific expression on her dirty smeared face.

"I'm Adriana." The two shared small smiles with each other, Maggie catching up with them, falling in step beside her. "And this is my sister, Charmer."

"Oh no! Not you, too!" Charmer groaned, Adriana laughing merrily while Talitha looked between the two of them in confusion.

"Uh, it's nice to meet you, Charmer," she said hesitantly, only making Adriana laugh harder.

"I think Deacon might have you on this one and, personally, I love it and think it suits you," Adriana leaned over, placing a kiss into Charmer's hair.

"I think you should just embrace it, doll," Hancock added, joining the growing group around Talitha. "I've heard Deacon tellin' the story to anyone who'll listen and each time it gets more impressive. In fact, I think the latest rendition includes you riding the Deathclaw as it chased Winter before devouring him in one gulp."

"But that's not what…" she didn't even know what to say. She looked between their faces, at a loss.

"Sorry to say kid, but that story is probably halfway around the Commonwealth by now," Nick interjected as he walked past. "Deacon's the epitome of well connected."

When they finally made it back to Sanctuary, Sturges was waiting for them at the gate.

"Hey! Where's Charmer?" He called, raising his chin to look over people's heads.

Charmer pushed through the crowd, black eyes wide in confusion.

"But- How?" She sputtered, looking around to see Deacon walking up behind her nonchalantly.

"The story of you summoning a fire-breathing Deathclaw and riding down Winter was just on Diamond City radio! I didn't even know there were some that could do that!"

Charmer stared at Deacon, standing there all nonchalantly, hands in the pockets of his jeans. A smug smile slowly appeared on his face.

"This isn't over, Deacon. Game on," she huffed, spinning on her heel and storming through the gate, MacCready following behind her at a safe distance, trying to stifle his laughter.


	18. The Inevitability of Change

Charmer looked straight forward, trying to hold as still as possible. The noxious fumes from the concoction that Talitha had spread all over her hair was stinging her eyes, but she sat perfectly still. _It's silly to be nervous. It's just hair._

"Time to rise, my dear," Talitha said in a singsong voice, leading her over to lean her head over the side of the old bathtub. She had several buckets of water waiting at the ready. Charmer held her eyes squeezed shut as the woman rinsed her hair, fingers massaging into her scalp. She had never had someone wash her hair for her, at least not since she was small and living on the farm with her family, and it felt heavenly. A small, satisfied sigh escaped her lips and she heard Talitha chuckle, causing her cheeks to heat in a blush.

"Feels lovely to have someone else wash your hair, doesn't it?"

"It really does. I had no idea!"

"Well, now you know and you're going to have to get that handsome man of yours to help you out! I doubt he'd argue." With one last rinse, just for good measure, Talitha wrapped her head in a towel and helped her up and back into the chair.

Charmer smiled at the thought of RJ, she couldn't help it.

"Yeah, you're probably right." The only woman Charmer had ever counted as a friend was Adriana and the amount of times they had participated in girl talk wouldn't even take up the fingers on one of her hands. She was feeling a little out of her depth.

"I know I am. I've seen the two of you together and, honey, let's just say I'd love to have someone look at me like that." Her voice sounded wistful as she combed through Charmer's hair and then picked up the scissors they had borrowed from Sturges. "Your hair bleached very nicely! Now, you're sure about the cut we discussed, yes?"

"Yes," she stated firmly. Now that Winter was dead and she had, thanks to Deacon, been given a new name, she had decided a change of hair was necessary as well. After all, she was a brand new woman. If any of her family were still alive, they wouldn't even recognize her anymore, which was fine. She didn't much feel like the Maggie that they had known and hadn't looked like her since Winter, so why not go all the way?

"Here we go," Talitha said, voice accented by the sharp, metallic sound of the shears. Charmer could feel an excited smile pulling at her lips as her hair fell to the floor. She just hoped RJ liked it.

MacCready walked through Sanctuary, tired from his patrol, but pleasantly so. Having a consistently full stomach and good night's rest along with the love of an amazing woman had made him happy in ways he hadn't ever known. Even when things were good with Lucy, they had never once felt truly safe. Plus, he'd always had that stupid lie hanging over his head. He fingered the outline of the small wooden toy through the thin fabric of his duster, sighing. _At least Charmer knows the truth about me._ He shook his head, thinking how quickly her new name had caught on, how well it fit her. She really was a charmer, but unconsciously. It wasn't an act or a tool she used to get something she wanted, it was just who she was. Just catching a glimpse of her could make even the most dour of people smile.

The only thing MacCready was missing was Duncan. As much as he wasn't certain he deserved Duncan, he was determined to do right by him. He wasn't about to have the kid thinking he wasn't loved. Wasn't wanted. Mac's heart clenched at even the thought. He was half tempted to worry about Charmer and Duncan liking each other, but they were both so patently likable, far more so than he could ever aspire to, that he couldn't even imagine the scenario.

Mac reached the house he and his friends were sharing, pulling open the door to see a strange sight.

"Charmer? Is that you?" He cocked his head to the side, watching avidly as she turned around.

"What do you think?" Her voice was filled with concern, eyebrows drawn together, and it made him love her more. _She's worried I won't like it._ He fought down the urge to laugh at the absurdity that he would care one way or another.

"You're beautiful, love. Always," he said with a chuckle that he was unable to hold in. He held his arms open and she fell into his chest, nuzzling into the side of his neck and making him laugh. "That tickles, babe!"

"That's for laughing," she replied haughtily before wrapping her arms around his neck and finding his mouth with hers in a crushing, breathless kiss that made MacCready's head spin and his heart race. "And that's for being the sweetest merc I ever met."

MacCready looked down into her sparkling, onyx eyes, hoping that by some miracle she would always look at him like she was right now. He threaded his fingers through her hair, filled with equal parts hope and despair at his prospects. Historically speaking, he was nothing but a lousy fuck up and there was nothing he could do to change the past. He was damn well going to try to change his future, though. For the beautiful creature looking up at him like he was a gift and for the son he hadn't seen in far too long.

"Hey there, handsome. Where'd ya go?"

"Huh?" Mac shook his head a little to clear it. "Got lost in your eyes, I guess," he said shyly. She rewarded him with one of her pretty blushes, lashes fluttering coquettishly.

"Nice save, kid," Nick chimed in from his seat on the sofa, out of MacCready's direct line of sight. "Didn't know you had that kind of sweet talk in ya. Color me impressed."

"It was the truth," he whispered to Charmer before raising his voice to address the detective, "and I don't need your compliments."

"I was just trying to be friendly on account of the lady," Nick replied with a chuckle, standing up. He tipped his hat at Charmer and tossed Mac a dirty look before heading toward the front door. "Have a good afternoon, Charmer."

"You too, Nick," she called after him.

When the door closed behind him Charmer shook her head, giggling behind one small hand.

"I'm never gonna come out on top with him, am I?" His top lip curled up in unhappiness.

"I wouldn't count on it, love." She paused, looking around the room to make sure no one else was sitting near by, unnoticed. "But you might just get to come out on top with me."

MacCready's eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared behind his hat. He sputtered for a moment, nodding his head in eager agreement once he had gotten over the initial shock. _Someone's just full of surprises._

MacCready didn't hesitate, he just clasped her small hand in his larger, calloused one and pulled her up the stairs as her giggles echoed off the wooden walls.

Deacon watched the pair disappear up the stairs from a shadowed corner, smiling to himself. He remembered that feeling. New love that left you blind to everyone and everything, that drowned out all the white noise that usually accompanied everyday life. Love had a way of making everything look polished and shiny, even when you were surrounded by nothing but death and blood and wreckage. It was no wonder people fell hard and fast these days, it was the only thing that made their surroundings palatable.

He had read every pre-war book he could find and the characters always seemed to take their time with love. Maybe it was because he had grown up in a time when you lived hard and fast or not at all, but he had never understood. If you loved someone and they loved you, why would you waste your time? He certainly hadn't with Barbara. He had known from the minute he laid eyes on her that he would do damn near anything to make her smile, to protect her. _And yet somehow you're the reason she's dead. Great job, pal._

Deacon shied away from that line of thought, moving to the new lady that was the unknowing recipient of his affections. He laughed at himself, the sound barely more than air rushing past his teeth. _Talk about taking your time._ Maybe he wasn't any different from all those pre-war protagonists after all. He sighed. _Hypocrite._

Pushing off the wall, he made his way to the door and pulled it open, almost walking straight into one of the new settlers they had saved from Winter. _Talitha?_

"Oh!" She held her hand to her chest, startled. "You're just the man I was looking for! Didn't expect to find you quite so easily, but beggars can't be choosers, right?"

"That's what they used to say…" Deacon responded evenly. Eyes narrowing behind his shades. He liked it when people other than him used old world sayings, but anything he liked made him nervous. _Because that makes sense._ "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I'd rather not talk about it on the doorstep…" she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes, one hand casually rubbing the swell of her stomach.

"Sensitive information? Alright, let's talk inside." Deacon opened and held the door for her, watching the graceful way she walked, almost gliding.

She made her way to the sofa, sitting down and patting the cushion next to her in invitation. Deacon took in her appearance as he sat down. She had blonde hair and smallish, almond shaped blue eyes over a romanesque nose and full, cupid's bow lips. Her hair had been buzzed like the others and hadn't had much opportunity to grow back, but she had a nicely shaped skull and a long neck. _Tell her she has a nice skull. That won't freak her out._ For someone who had recently been a slave, she had a regal air about her. Maybe it was the set of her shoulders or the way she sat with her chin slightly raised.

"What can I do for you?"

"I hear you have contacts. Do you think you could find out what happened to the people from the settlement Winter's men took me from?"

"I'm sure I could find out," Deacon responded, noncommittally. "What's the name of the settlement?"

"County Crossing."

Deacon's stomach lurched at the name. Last time he had passed by that particular settlement, there had been nothing left but ash and rotting corpses. He took a deep breath, considering lying. _She'll find out the truth one way or another._ He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, gathering his strength. No matter how many times he delivered bad news, it never got easier.

"I actually already know the fate of that particular settlement."

"That bad, eh?" She sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Figured as much."

Deacon wasn't sure what to do with the matter of fact way she took the news. He just stared at her.

"Well, thanks for the information, Deacon. See ya around." She stood up, patting him on the shoulder as she passed by him.

"You're welcome," he called after her, the words sounding more like a question than he had intended, but she was already out the door. _What the hell was that about?_

"I hope ya don't mind, but we've been clearin' this here vault out ever since ya left. We properly buried all its former inhabitants and now we're strippin' it of all the unnecessary bits so we can repurpose them. Seemed silly to let all this easily defensible space go to waste…" Sturges trailed off, looking over at Adriana from the corner of his eyes.

"Sounds perfectly reasonable to me," she agreed with a nod. Maybe if she still remembered the people from the vault, she would have been a little unhappy about not having been consulted, but honestly she felt relieved. She had felt bad about leaving everyone down here and now she could rest easy, on that score, at the very least.

"What are ya plannin' on usin' it for?" Hancock looked around, moving a bit of scrap metal around with the toe of his boot.

"Actually, we're taking a page outta Goodneighbor's book and turning part of it into a bar. The other side we're gonna partition off into separate rooms for people to rent when they've had a little too much. Don't want people wandering the 'Wealth too drunk to shoot straight. Bad for business and all."

"I like it! It'll bring in the caps, that's for sure. We'll need to increase the security measures topside and have people on watch both there and at the entrance so we have notice if anything bad is coming down that elevator. Other than that, looks good to me! Great work, Sturges." She smiled warmly at him, but he waved his hand noncommittally.

"It wasn't all me."

"We both know you are the brains behind this and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise."

"Whatever you say…" he trailed off, embarrassed.

Adriana and Hancock took that as their cue to head back up, checking out the progress that had been made on their way out.

"I really think this is gonna be one hell of a tourist attraction, love." Hancock threw an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Hell, you might even put me outta business."

Adriana laughed throatily as he leaned in to nibble her ear, his breath warm against her vault chilled skin.

"Me? I didn't do anything! This isn't mine."

He laughed, pushing the button to send the elevator back up and pulling her along with him to the platform.

"Right. Sturges was clearly running the plans by you for approval, Miss Boss-Lady."

"He was not!" She giggled as he drug his tongue up her neck, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close enough that she could feel the growing bulge in his pants.

"Whatever you say, sunshine. Now, about how long would ya say this elevator ride is?"

"Pretty… long…" she teased, dropping to her knees in dark, hands on the knot of the flag he wore to keep his pants from sliding down his narrow hips.

"Damn, doll. I owe you one," Hancock crooned into her ear as the platform settled into place at the surface.

"It's not like I'm keeping score, John." She waved off his words, shying from his eyes.

"I'm more of a giver than a receiver, if ya know what I mean," he wriggled his brow, sticking his tongue out.

"I'm aware," she laughed, pushing him away playfully and arching a lone eyebrow. "Are you complaining about my generosity?"

"Never, sunshine! Just reminding you that the first moment I get you to myself again…" he licked his thin top lip, looking at her with a decidedly predatory expression. A shiver of excitement traveled the length of her in anticipation. She knew just how talented with that tongue of his he was.

"I guess. If you insist," she replied primly, turning her nose up in disinterest.

"You're gonna play it like that, eh?" Hancock chuckled, his raspy voice doing things to her that no voice alone should be capable of. "We'll just see about that, now won't we?"

"See about what?"

Both of their heads shot up, meeting Preston's questioning gaze. They had been so involved in their own discussion that they hadn't even heard him approach. _Good thing it was him and not Raiders_ , Adriana admonished herself.

"Just a little wager. I'm betting I can make Adriana _eat_ her words," Hancock replied, smiling politely, head cocked ever so slightly to the side. Adriana elbowed him, smiling widely at their friend who looked confused, but was too nice to say anything about it.

"Well, good luck?" He shrugged before changing the subject. "Look, I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you are comfortable with all the changes we've been making."

"Why wouldn't I be? I mean, I don't own the place," Adriana laughed, waving him off.

"Actually," Preston looked away, the toe of his boot suddenly fascinating, "we kind of took a vote."

"What?!" Adriana stopped walking, sputtering incoherent syllables while Hancock laughed silently.

"Ya see, I'm leaving to try and recruit more members for the Minutemen. A decent amount of the people you saved have joined up, but we need to create footholds all across the Commonwealth to really be successful. So, I'm takin' to the roads. Sturges is going to stay here, but he doesn't really have an inclination towards leadership. Plus, he's already got so many projects going that he doesn't really have the time. I've been asking around and the only name that people can agree on is yours."

"Told… you!" Hancock wheezed out between laughs, hands braced on his knees as he fought for air.

"But I don't know the first thing about being a leader!" She looked back and forth between the two men, mouth open in outrage.

"Luckily you happen to be on very good terms with the best mayor around," Hancock responded, getting himself under a modicum of control.

"Maybe not quite as good as he thinks," she mumbled under her breath, causing him to fall prey to another bout of laughter. She focused on Preston, eyes narrowed. "Was anyone planning on asking me? What if I don't want to be in charge? Hell, what if I don't want to be pinned to one place? You're going to have to let me think about it."

Preston nodded, realizing from her tone of voice that although she was fooling around with Hancock, she was not kidding with him. She continued to bore holes through him with her eyes for a long moment before slowly walking away. _If he thinks he's going to make me do anything I don't want to do, he's got another thing coming._

Hancock took sympathy on the general, patting him once on the shoulder before following his girl at a safe distance back into town. _Silly bastard._

Deacon watched the disagreement go down outside of town, slipping silently back through the barren trees unnoticed and cutting between ruined pre-war real estate so that when Adriana hit the main drag, he was walking casually toward her. _Now to make her an offer she can't refuse._

"Just the badass I was lookin' for!" Deacon waved and she stopped in front of him smiling.

"Tell me you're not a part of the plot to make me mayor, too," she groaned.

"Now, I love a good plot more than most, but can't say that I am. You? Mayor? Seems a waste of your plentiful talents, if you ask me." He shrugged casually, like his heart wasn't racing at her proximity.

"Flatterer," she accused. "Then what is it you need from me?"

Deacon looked around, before jerking his head, indicating she should follow him.

"Not really a conversation we should have in the open, the Institute is everywhere."

Adriana nodded, following after him as he lead her passed Sturges' workshop and the ever expanding garden. He came to a stop next an old, weathered picnic bench and climbed up to sit on top of it, elbows resting casually on his thighs as he surveyed the area before him, always on watch. Adriana climbed up next to him, but she didn't look at him, just kept her face pointed forward, waiting patiently for him to begin.

"I may not have been entirely honest with you about my profession, but don't take it personally. I lie to everyone. Kinda necessary when you're fighting a shadowy organization that can literally make people."

Adriana nodded once, still not turning to face him. _Smart. Giving me enough rope to hang myself with._ This wasn't his first recruit, though. He knew just how much to say, how much to allude to.

"Let me tell ya about the Boogeymen of the Commonwealth and the merry band of misfits that are trying to put a stop to them."

Adriana listened, not just to the words he said, but the ones he didn't. _He's good._ She kept quiet until he came to the end of his spiel. Only then did she look over at him and smile.

"The Railroad sounds more up my alley than sitting around organizing trade routes and settling domestic disputes."

"I thought so, too. After seeing the way you fight, how you carry yourself? Yeah, you'd be wasted here."

"I've got to talk to Hancock, but I think you can count me in," she said, hopping down off the table. "I'll catch up with you later."

"Sure thing," he called after her.

Adriana sighed once she was out of hearing. She wanted to help the Railroad and not just because their cause was noble, but because he had asked. He hadn't gone behind her back. He hadn't tried to guilt her. He had laid all the facts out for her and then left it up to her. Her only hesitation was Hancock. She needed to figure out how he fit in, because he was the one piece in her life that was non negotiable.

She could see his coat in the distance and began to move toward him with single minded determination. She hoped that no matter how many other things changed in her life, because change was inevitable, he would be her one constant. She couldn't imagine a time when she wouldn't yearn for his scarred hand in hers, for the raspy cackle of his laugh. She was overwhelmed by the strength of her love for him in that moment. He must have heard her coming, because as she reached him he turned around, smile already pulling at his mouth.

Hancock could feel her presence and turned around, but what he saw was far more intense than he could have anticipated. She looked like she was going to push him down in the middle of the street and have her way with him right there. _Won't find me arguing._

"Sunshine?"

"I fucking love you," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward their lodgings. "I need you. Now."

"You ain't gotta tell me twice. I'm all yours, doll," he promised as he followed her inside.

Adriana didn't know what the future held, but she wasn't letting go of her man anytime soon.

Deacon watched from the picnic table as his new recruit bee lined for her ghoul and then pulled him away from his conversation with Trashcan Carla without so much as a word to the woman. _No big deal. It doesn't matter. I know the score._ It didn't keep him from closing his eyes and imagining her hand in his instead.

He heard soft footfalls pointed in his direction and opened his eyes to find Talitha's blues not far from his.

"Wasn't sure if you were asleep sitting up, but you didn't seem to hear the dinner bell." She sat down next to him, passing him one of the two bowls in her hands.

Deacon mumbled his thanks and dug in, both of them eating the stew without comment. Talitha's wordless presence was unexpectedly soothing and he was almost sorry when they had finished and she collected his bowl with a smile before sauntering off. _I must be going soft,_ he thought, curling his top lip in disgust. He pushed away from the table and made his way back toward the center of the settlement in search of a lantern to read his book by. _Might as well drown myself in someone else's problems for a bit._


	19. One Last Hurrah

"You sure you want to do this? I love you no matter what, Charm. If you want to stay, I'll come back to you. I promise," MacCready clasped her hands in his, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He had to offer her one last out. The trip ahead of them was dangerous and he worried for her safety and longed to have her with him in equal measures. _You selfish jerk._ If he were a better man, he'd make her stay. Duncan was his problem, not hers. _How can I let her risk her life for me? Again!_

"Are we really doing this? I already told you," she paused so she could straddle him, leaning forward so that their faces were mere inches apart, "I'm going with you. I'm not letting you walk off into danger alone. We're a team, RJ."

He smiled, reaching up to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She nuzzled into his neck, her warm breath on his skin as she stretched her naked length against him. She was so tiny, seemingly fragile, but deceptively strong. When she was pressed against him like this, soft in all the best ways, it was easy to forget that at her core she was as solid as heartwood, sturdy. She had survived the Commonwealth, slavery, and ghoulification, all the while holding on to her innate positivity.

"I know. I just can't imagine a world without you in it."

Charmer's eyes found his, blinking rapidly in a vain attempt to stall the inevitable. She framed his face with her hands, fingertips just inside his hairline. She could feel both of their erratically beating hearts, separated by flesh and bone, but seemingly straining to reach the other, frantic to be closer.

"I love you, Robert Joseph MacCready, and I will follow you anywhere. Always. We're in this together now."

Her words stole his breath, because no matter how many times he heard them a part of him expected to wake up in the next instant. He couldn't find any more words, but she didn't seem to need them anyway. Her mouth found his, rough and needy as her hands slid up to ball in his hair. He gasped at the pleasant pain and her tongue slipped between his lips. She rolled her hips, rubbing herself against his growing erection and the moan of anticipation that met his ears was deliciously obscene.

MacCready was surprised when she reached between, running her hand down the length of him before raising up and angling his cock so that she lower herself down around him. As he entered her she threw her head back, a small smile that looked something like relief spread over her features.

Charmer could feel him shudder beneath her, gasping as he filled her. She felt powerful and sexy, two things she wasn't sure she'd ever feel.

"You like that, baby?" She leaned in close enough that her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, teasingly. She tightened the hold she still had on his hair, her other hand braced against his chest.

"Hell yes!" He panted enthusiastically as she rocked her hips, taking him deeper into her warmth. _She's so warm._ It was intoxicating.

A throaty laugh escaped her as she dipped her head again to dig her teeth into the tender flesh of his neck, making him buck, hard.

His hands found her hips and desperate for friction, he held her still as he thrust into her her, watching avidly as her breasts bounced above him in time.

"RJ! Yeah… just like that…" she cried, tugging on his hair, the nails of the hand on his chest piercing his skin. His own cry mingled with hers, but he only moved faster, harder until her eyes squeezed shut and her head fell back, mouth open but soundless as she spasmed around him. He made enough noise for them both, grunting loudly in relief as he came.

She collapsed into his chest, running one hand soothingly over the small crescent shaped marks she had left in his pale skin. She followed the caress with a gentle kiss before nestling into the side of his neck again.

"That was different than usual," he whispered, running his fingers through her blonde hair. In some places it had turned almost white, but it was still soft thanks to some conditioner Talitha had insisted she use.

"Did you, uh… like it?" She asked without looking up.

"I think I made my feelings pretty clear, Charm." He pulled her away from him, one hand raising her chin so that she would meet his eyes. "You can be just about as rough with me as you want."

His words made her blush, but she didn't look away.

"Have you ever thought something was so cute, you just wanted to hurt it?"

"Yeah," he laughed, eyes crinkling at their corners as he smiled hugely. "When Duncan was just a tiny thing it took all my self control not to pinch his chubby little cheeks."

"That's how I feel about you. You're so cute and I just want to hurt you for it…" she confided in him, her guilty grin making him smile even harder.

"Me? Cute? I guess there's no accounting for taste."

She smacked his chest before placing a kiss on his forehead and climbing out of bed to clean up.

"You ready for today?" His voice was quiet, eyes not quite meeting hers.

"Ready to say bye to my best friend and the only place that's felt even remotely home-like in what seems like forever?" She paused, holding a hand out to him. "Sure. As long as you're by my side I can handle anything."

"So, you're serious 'bout this Railroad stuff, huh?" Hancock looked down at her, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair. His tone was light, but his expression betrayed him.

"I think I am, John. I just don't know how it'll work. It's not like I can keep you from Goodneighbor indefinitely."

"I definitely need to check in from time to time, but Fahrenheit knows the drill. Barring some kind of calamity, the town should be fine. 'Sides, I refuse to let it become a ball and chain. My place's with you," he said with a smile, kissing her on the forehead. "Not to say you can't take to the roads without me. Hell, you can handle yourself better than I can."

"I don't know if that's true, but you really think we can make this work?" She couldn't contain her excitement, eyes bright, smile tugging up the corners of her mouth.

"Of course we can, doll. How could I not be on board with you wantin' to help others? We'll figure it out. Might have some lonely nights ahead of us, but that'll just make the ones when we're together even better." Hancock leaned down, finding her mouth to reassure her with something other than words, realizing he needed it, too.

Hancock was scared of what would happen when he wasn't there at her back, but logically he knew terrible things could happen just as easily with him mere feet away. He had always been a risk taker, but he'd never had anything as valuable as her to gamble with. _She's gotta make her own choices,_ he reminded himself. _Just remember how lucky you are that she wants to come home to you._

"I love you, John."

"And I love you, sunshine." He punctuated the statement with a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Now, we just gotta break the news to Preston and…"

"...say goodbye," she finished for him.

She realized she probably felt the same about Charmer leaving as Hancock felt about her traveling without him. Anxious over all the uncertainty, but firm in the knowledge that people had to be allowed to go where their heart took them and hopeful that they would return again.

Adriana had been avoiding thinking about her little sister's impending departure, even as she helped prepare her for it. They had spent the last several days gathering supplies and making sure Charmer was as ready as possible. Hancock had sent someone to Goodneighbor with a note for Daisy to send along ahead of them so MacCready's friends in the Capital Wasteland would know he was on his way for his son. Adriana had also helped to organize a send off for the couple at the newly renovated Vault 111.

Now that the party was upon them, the reality was really sinking in. _She's leaving tomorrow._ Charmer had been there for her since the beginning and the thought of her being so out of reach was terrifying.

"You okay, doll?" Hancock's voice was soft with understanding, eyes wide in concern.

"As okay as I can be, I suppose." She smiled at him. It was fake, but it was all she could muster and it was just going to have to do. "Time to get ready, regardless."

"They'll be okay."

"I sure hope so, John."

Deacon, carrying several boxes full of liquor bottles that had been sent for from Goodneighbor, watching impatiently as the weight lowered, lifting the gate to allow him entrance into the vault-turned-bar.

"That the alcohol?" Preston called down to him from his perch. He was training some of the settlers on the ins and outs of guard duty.

"Alcohol? We need alcohol?" Deacon responded, each step echoing off the metal beneath his feet.

"Just take it over to Codsworth, okay?" Preston responded, rolling his eyes. _Good to know I haven't lost my touch._ He had begun to wonder if maybe he was becoming less annoying, since Adriana never seemed annoyed by his antics, but apparently she just had a weird sense of humor.

Deacon traipsed across the bridge and into the main bar area where Sturges and a few settlers were putting on the finishing touches to the renovations. The bar had been set up to the right, Codsworth already puttering around behind it. There were sofas placed around the room, end tables on either side and a jukebox setup next to the old control panel. Sturges had done some rewiring, so the yellow hunk of metal was nothing more than a decoration at this point. _Just another inoperational old world relic, taking up space…_

"Someone waiting on several bottles of lowered inhibitions?" Deacon called to Codsworth, watching as one of the bot's eye stalks swiveled in his direction.

"If you are referring to alcohol, then yes! Jolly good, sir!" Codsworth stopped what he was doing, practically ripping into the boxes before Deacon could place them down on the bar top. "I was getting concerned that I wouldn't be ready by the time partons began arriving!"

Deacon mumbled something in response before turning around and almost smacking into Sturges.

"Wanna tour of the recent updates?" Sturges asked, pulling his gloves off and shoving them into a pocket and then wriggling his fingers in relief.

"Sure, if you've got the time."

"We're basically finished," he replied with a wave before descending down the small flight of stairs next to the bar.

"I thought all this was flooded," Deacon commented, looking around in wide-eyed surprise. The area under the bridge was now lined with round, high-topped, white tables that each had a pair of stools tucked neatly underneath them.

"It was and it was a helluva job dryin' it out."

"I don't doubt it. Damn impressive, my man," Deacon patted the guy's shoulder and then followed him up the stairs and down the hall. They entered the first room on the right and only years of practice kept his jaw from hanging open. All the cryo-pods had been removed and metal walls been erected, creating individual rooms. Sure, the walls didn't quite reach the high ceiling of the vault, but they still afforded more privacy than most places in the Commonwealth. Deacon walked passed the front desk that was set up near the door, little hooks with rooms keys hanging on the wall behind it, and descended the few stairs that lead down to the rooms. He opened the first door, revealing a full sized bed and a nightstand that was home to a small lamp. Deacon whistled loudly in appreciation.

"This is one high class establishment ya got here!"

"Well, I wanted it to be something Adriana would be proud to have her name on. We've all decided that even if she doesn't want to be mayor, this place is hers. Codsworth is more than happy to do the day to day running of it and we wanted a way to thank her for everything she's done for us," Sturges looked down at his feet as he spoke, seemingly embarrassed by the praise. "I haven't even shown you the best part!"

Deacon followed the handyman into the next room, the one that Adriana had woken up in all those months ago, and this time he couldn't keep his mouth from falling open.

"Is this a distillery?"

"Sure is! Pretty soon we'll be makin' our own brew!" Sturges stroked the metal of the contraption before him lovingly, ginning ear from ear.

"Is there anything you can't build?" Deacon's incredulous question had Sturges waving him off and looking at his boots again.

"Aww, it was nothin'," he replied. "Let me show you the rest."

 _There's more?_ Deacon followed along in awe as Sturges showed him the now working kitchen and employee sleeping quarters before looping back up to the what used to be the overseer's office, but would now belonged to Adriana. _The only thing this place is lacking is Magnolia. If she ever decides to relocate, the Third Rail will be doomed._ He had no doubt that Adriana, along with the rest of the Commonwealth, was going to love it.

"Here, let me see if I can't do something with your hair," Charmer said, motioning for Adriana to come closer.

"It's just long enough to be annoying, but not long enough to really do anything with. It's making me crazy," she complained, running her fingers through it self consciously.

"I found some bobby pins laying around, maybe they can force it into submission." Charmer knocked her hand away and then grabbed her chin, tilting her head in such a way that she had the best view possible with which to conduct her work.

Charmer collected the front bit, the part that wanted to be bangs, but instead was just sticking up in all directions and twisted it together. She stuck a few pins in it, creating a small poof and effectively keeping it from going every which way.

"Well, it isn't spectacular, but it's definitely better."

"I'll take your word for it, sis. Thank you," Adriana said, smiling. Charmer turned to open the door, but Adriana reached out, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her back into a hug. "I'm really going to miss you."

Charmer squeezed her back, "Not as much as I'm going to miss you. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me. I love you, sister."

"I love you, too! And you've done just as much for me. You know that, right?" One of Adriana's hands found its way up to cup her cheek, placing a kiss on her sister's forehead. "You saved me and I will always be there if you need me."

"I know."

"Seriously! Send up some smoke signals! Anything! I'll be there," Adriana promised.

Charmer laughed, "I believe you! Come on, I'm sure the boys are waiting on us. Let's get this party started."

Adriana allowed herself to be pulled from the room, hand in hand. She kept her smile, but inside she couldn't help but worry.

The four of them reached the vault and the settlers on watch hit the button to send them down, the sound of them radioing ahead echoing down the concrete tunnel after them. Charmer clung to Mac in the growing darkness. She had never been inside the vault and the trip was more than a bit intimidating. _How did they even dig so deeply into the ground? What were people capable of back then?_ She couldn't help but be impressed. _They could have done so many great things and instead they tried to destroy it all._ She would never understand people that were capable of hurting the innocent, that much was clear.

"I got ya, Charm," Mac whispered into her ear, pulling her closer.

She relaxed into his embrace, trying not to think about what would happen if the centuries old machinery ever ceased to work. When she finally saw the cheery glow of lights nearing she let out an audible sigh of relief. The platform shook a little as it settled against the ground and the cage-like door in front of them couldn't raise fast enough, in her opinion.

Charmer all but pulled Mac from the platform, Adriana and Hancock following along at a more leisurely pace. Looking around, she returned the waves and called greetings from the handful of men and women that were in charge of the security for the evening. They had constructed metal barriers from scrap salvaged from the vault itself to crouch behind in the event of an attack, but right now they were all leisurely sprawled in chairs, weapons hanging unused by their shoulder straps.

"You have yourself a good time, Charmer! We got everything under control," one guy called. _Carl, maybe?_ That was one thing about being so well known throughout the Commonwealth, everyone seemed to know her name, but she was having a hell of a time remembering all of theirs and it made her feel guilty.

"Thanks… Carl. I will!" She called, pausing nervously before his name. His friendly smile grew at her few words and she returned it in relief. _Must have gotten it right!_

MacCready took the lead over the bridge as her steps faltered at the sight before her. Everyone from the settlement that wasn't on watch duty must have already been there. The room was packed to the point that people were overflowing into the hallways that led deeper into the vault. People were lined up shoulder to shoulder at the bar as all of Codsworth's limbs moved in different directions, grabbing bottles and scooping up caps.

Charmer turned around to see that Adriana had stopped halfway across the bridge, one hand white-knuckled on the chipped yellow railing. Charmer opened her mouth, but didn't know what to say. _Is she finally remembering something?_

Hancock stopped walking, turning to see why Adriana was no longer in step with him. The blood had drained from her face as she stared out into the crowd of people.

"What's wrong, love?" Hancock turned, fingers grazing the scarred flesh of her neck as his thumb caressed her cheek.

Adriana shook her head slightly, turning to look at him.

"Huh?" Her voice was soft as her eyes searched for and found his.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, sorry! I was just feeling a little overwhelmed, to be honest. Between all the changes and the amount of people in here…" she smiled hesitantly, trying to push down her rising anxiety. "Historically speaking, this many people equals bloodshed. You know?"

Hancock felt like an idiot for not having anticipated this kind of reaction. _Of course she's nervous!_

"I do. Do ya feel up to this? We can get the hell outta here. You just say the word."

"No," she waved her hand in negation, forcing a cheerful expression onto her face. "I'm not wasting this dress on sitting around! Plus," she leaned in, lowering her voice as she raised the hem of her dress, "I came prepared this time."

Hancock looked at the knife that was tucked securely into its holster around her thigh and growled appreciatively at the view, grazing her pale flesh with the tips of his fingers.

"You sure you don't wanna," he paused, raising his eyes to hers, leering, "get outta here?"

Adriana tugged her dress back into place, laughing.

"I think I'll be fine. Just stick close, alright?"

"No complaints here," he promised, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss before turning around to see he wasn't the only one worried. "She's good," he assured Charmer before she could ask.

"I really am," Adriana chimed in, hurrying forward to link arms with her sister. "Promise. Now, let's find ourselves something to drink."

As they stepped off the metal and onto the concrete floor Deacon appeared, one hand full of stacked glasses while he held two bottles close to his body with the other arm.

"Hey there, party people! I thought you might want to avoid the line, so I got enough to share. You wanna find a table or would you rather escape the crowd for a bit?" Deacon looked to Adriana who smiled thankfully.

"A more exclusive party wouldn't be frowned upon," she responded.

"Say no more!" Deacon called over to where Nick was chatting with Preston and Sturges, jerking his head to indicate that they should follow. "I know just the spot."

Adriana followed her soon to be partner through the throng of people and down the hallway that lead to the Overseer's office. She followed him in and over to the right, which had been set up as a seating area with a few sofa's and chairs all gathered around a coffee table, which Deacon unloaded his burden on to.

"Everybody grab a glass! I've got whiskey and wine, so pick your poison," Deacon said, picking up the wine bottle and pulling the already loosened cork from it with his teeth and spitting it out at Nick.

"What gives? You better watch your back, bucko. It's unwise to pick on a man who finds things out for a living, especially in your line of work," Nick threatened, arching one thin brow.

"Accidents happen, pal. I was just in a hurry to pour our good friend here a drink. You wouldn't want me to keep a dame like her waiting, now would ya?" Deacon picked up a glass and tipped the bottle over it, spilling it's aromatic red liquid. "Red's your thing, right? Red wine, red dress… only hopefully tonight there will be a lack of the other common read thing that is usually spilled in your presence."

Nick was still muttering under his breath about the likelihood of accidents as Adriana reached out to take the glass from his hands. _What a show off._ She nodded her appreciation, cursing his sunglasses as she tried to get a read on him.

"You've certainly done your homework," she said with a smile. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage."

"Just the way I like you," he whispered back, pouring his own glass as Hancock stepped up, his own glass now the proud owner of a generous tot of whiskey.

"What'd I miss?" He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close as he took a sip from his glass.

"I was just getting your lady a drink," Deacon supplied, charming grin replacing the sly one he'd just had turned on her. He slipped by them, addressing the whole room, "I don't know about you guys, but I might end up with a lampshade on my head by the end of this night!"

"That'd sure be an improvement, kid." Nick teased from his chair, knocking back a swallow of whiskey.

Adriana turned, looking for Charmer, to find her and Mac conversing with Talitha who was sipping on a cherry Nuka-Cola. Placing a kiss on Hancock's check, she nodded toward the group and he nodding, throwing her a wink.

"I'll be keeping an eye out, doll. Just try and have some fun," he whispered in her ear before turning to talk to Nick, leaving her to her own devices. She sidled up Charmer, only to hear that the current topic of discussion happened to be Deacon.

"Does anyone know what he actually does?" Talitha asked, turning to Adriana to include her in the discussion.

Adriana did know, but she also knew that it was important that no one else know. _Sorry, partner…_

"Deacon? I'm pretty sure he's nothing more than a professional pain in the ass. From what I can tell, he survives by taking odd jobs and/or pissing people off." The three of them laughed and Adriana decided to take it a step further. "I heard this story once, that he got ambushed by a group of Raiders and managed to get away by pretending to shoot at them. Like, he mimed it and made all the sound effects. No actual bullets were used. The Raiders were so stunned that they just stood there, watching. He even lobbed a few 'grenades' at them in order to make his escape, once again, making all the sound effects including that of the pin falling to the ground. Once outside he continued the farce by 'starting' a motorcycle, which of course took more than one try to get going, before sputtering off into the distance. Dudes crazy."

Deacon had his head tilted so he could hear everything Adriana said with one ear, all the while listening to Preston and his plans to take back the Castle with the other. The general had already had more than a little to drink and was talking louder than normal as excitement and intoxication combined, so Deacon really had to strain to hear what Adriana came up with.

He listened intently and it took all of his well honed self control to act like he hadn't heard her. _How the hell does she know that story?!_ His eyes were like the twin moons of Mars behind his glasses, looming largely behind the tinted lenses. He smiled, nodding along to Preston's ramblings without paying attention, his mind focused solely on the words that left the crimson lips of his newest recruit and maybe, just maybe, thinking up alternate uses for them.

Charmer spent most of the evening sipping wine at Adriana's side in the back office with her closest friends. Once the wine had begun to buzz through her system, the women had briefly left their more intimate gathering to dance to the tunes blasting from the jukebox, their men following along behind them. After a few fast songs rounded off by a couple's slow dance to 'I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire' the four of them stopped by the bar before escaping back to the office, more booze in hand.

Charmer made an effort to speak to each of her friends individually, ignoring MacCready's put out sigh and rolling eyes as she sat down on the arm of Nick's chair in order to share a few words with the detective.

By the end of the evening, the four of them were too tired to do anything other than pass out cuddled up on a sofa in the back office, the two women holding hands while pressed closely into the sides of their respective lovers.

The morning came too soon, as is often the case. Luckily bags were already packed and goodbyes mostly said. Only Charmer and MacCready's closets friends walked them to the edge of town, hugging them both in turn and whispering words of good luck before waving them off solemnly, all the while trying to inconspicuously dab tears from their eyes. No one moved until the pair wasn't even a speck on the horizon.

"Come one, love. Now it's our turn," Hancock whispered into Adriana's hair, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She nodded in agreement and they headed back into town to grab their their bags and make their own departure.


	20. Less Than Pure Intentions

"Well, I knew you were good," Deacon said tilting his head to shoot her a sideways look, "but the guys back at HQ will think I'm making it up if I tell them just how good."

"I would say that maybe you should quit crying wolf, but what fun would that be?" Adriana retorted, shoving him playfully.

"And we all know how I live for fun." His tone was joking, but Adriana could tell there was something bitter lurking beneath the surface.

The two of them had just completed their first job together and it had gone off without hitch. He had taught her all about the Railsigns they used to communicate out in the field and even had her take the lead in questioning a Tourist. She had felt a little silly saying her geiger counter was in the shop, but she had known that although Deacon had no problem lying or making someone the butt of a joke, when it came to work he was all business. If he said that was what she needed to respond with, then she wasn't going to question him. After all, she couldn't imagine anyone who didn't take working for the Railroad seriously living for very long. Sure, Deacon had a few screws loose, but so did she. _Who am I to judge?_ You probably had to be at least a little loony in order to volunteer for the kinds of risks they were taking on a daily basis.

Adriana had been worried about going out on a dangerous mission without Hancock at her side, if she was being completely honest with herself. When one of the Neighborhood Watch showed up outside of Sanctuary as they were on their way out of town, she had almost followed him back to Goodneighbor to help him with whatever impending disaster awaited him. She was sad that they had parted ways so suddenly, but maybe it was better that it had gone down that way. If she'd had days to think about it, she would have talked herself out of it, for sure.

 _As soon as he had seen the ghoul with the tommy gun, he had sighed, pulling her tightly into his embrace._

" _It looks like mayoral duty calls, love. And no," he said pushing her away just enough so that he could look into her eyes, "you can't come."_

 _She had laughed, knowing he was only saying the words to make it easier for her and she loved him all the more for it. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that started off gentle, but devolved quickly into a desperate kind of passion fueled by all the unknowns. How long would they be apart? Would they both make it back to each other in one piece? The list went on._

 _When they finally tore themselves away they were both breathless, hearts spilling over with unspoken promises. Their hands clung to each other, fingernails biting into flesh, until he stepped backward, cocky smile finding its usual place on his handsome face._

" _I love you," she whispered, fingers still barely locked with his._

" _And I love you. I'll see you soon," he said with a wink as he took another step back, pulling his hands from her grasp. "Take care of yourself."_

" _You too," she called, trying to smile._

" _Oh, and Deacon, good luck keeping up with her!" He called with a ringing laugh before turning on his heel. Adriana stood, watching his red coat disappear, heart a little heavier without his hand in hers._

Deacon watched her out of his peripherals as he lead Adriana to HQ for the first time. He had played out both scenarios in his head and had decided to take her to the Switchboard first to recover the prototype that he was supposed to be assembling a team to retrieve instead of taking her to Desdemona empty handed. _Go big or go home, right?_ It might have been different if she had come to them, but Deacon had approached her and he had done it without first clearing it with the boss lady and if he knew anything about women, it was that you don't show up empty handed when you've broken the rules.

"Now, when we get there, let me do the talking and just go along with whatever I say," Deacon instructed as they neared the Old North Church. Adriana laughed, shaking her head.

"I have no doubt that you'll handle the talking, it's just a question of whether or not you'll handle it well."

"Zing, partner! I might be a synth, but I still have feelings," he said lightly. He wasn't even sure why he said it. Maybe it was because things were already going so well, better than they had with anyone in too many years to count in fact, or maybe he had just been lying too long to do anything else. Regardless, that whopper was out there now, hanging between them like a noose.

"Synth or not, I'd like to know how big of a lie I'm going to have to go along with," she replied nonchalantly.

"I thought the ladies liked things… big," he said to cover up his confusion at her glossing over his mammoth sized lie, eyebrows wiggling lewdly over his sunglasses.

"Can't believe everything you hear. We prefer finesse over size any day. So why don't you show me your," she paused just long enough to make his mouth go dry, "finesse."

"With pleasure." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a stub of a pencil and a scrap of paper. He scribbled something down on it quickly, folded it and placed it in Adriana's hand. "My recall code. You know, just in case. It'll- What are you doing?!"

Adriana had pulled out a silver plated flip lighter she had scavenged and was currently holding the slip of paper over its open flame. It caught and she held it for a second as it burned before dropping it to the ground.

"Fuck that," was all she said before stamping out what remained of Deacon's nonsense and continuing forward.

 _Well, that's new…_ Deacon stared after her until she shot him an impatient look over her shoulder.

"I don't know where we're headed, remember?"

 _Hancock was right, I might not be able to keep up._

Larry filled him in on the trip back to Goodneighbor and with every word Hancock's steps quickened. The guilt he was feeling over having been gone so long was only compounded by the story that unfolded from the soft spoken ghoul. If anything irreversible had happened to Fahr he would never forgive himself. He was the closest thing to family the feisty red head had and he didn't plan on letting her down like her original one had.

As they neared their destination Hancock reached out a hand to stop the Neighborhood Watchman.

"You head back and gather as many Watch as you can without endangering the town. I'll go on ahead. Hurry, though. I have a feeling I'm gonna need the back-up."

"But Hancock-"

Larry stopped talking. There was no point as the mayor had already turned and was hurrying off towards Pickman's Gallery.

The stench that smacked him in the face when he pulled the front door open made him double over. The putrid odor of long rotting flesh was so overwhelming that he almost threw up, head spinning, one hand braced on his thigh as the other desperately clutched his shotgun. His sense of smell was one of the only downsides to being a ghoul. Without his pesky nose in the way that particular sense had increased significantly, but unfortunately bad smells were damn near exclusive in the Commonwealth.

"Get the hell off me, you sick fuck!"

Hancock's head jerked up at the sound of Fahrenheit's pissed off voice coming from the floor above. He swallowed his rising bile and pushed himself forward, determined to stop whatever was happening to his second in command. He hurried up the stairs, only hindered by his attempt at stealthiness. When he reached the door that stood between him and Fahrenheit he reared back, kicking the door hard enough to send it crashing against the wall as he stormed the room, shotgun at the ready.

What he saw made him pause just long enough for the man in the suit that was standing over Fahr's restrained body to throw his scalpel at Hancock. It spun, end over end, before lodging itself in his arm. _Great, another fuckin' tear to mend._ Hancock took a few steps forward as the man opened his mouth to speak, reaching behind himself, probably for another weapon. It wouldn't do him any good though. Hancock squeezed the trigger and bits of skull, brain matter and an excessive amount of blood splattered both him and her. _And now I've got to wash it, too?!  
_ "Cuttin' it a bit close, don't you think?" Fahrenheit asked, tugging at her restraints.

"Hey, better late than not at all," he responded, leaning his shotgun against the wall and stepping forward to unbuckle her limbs. "Would ya hold still? All your thrashin' about is making this impossible."

"That's almost exactly what he said," Fahrenheit responded, throaty laugh shaking her body.

"Damn, Fahr." He finally freed one of her hands and she batted his away with it, preferring to take care of the rest on her own. Hancock fished a Stimpak out of his pocket as she freed herself, but she only shook her head.

"Let's just get the fuck outta here. I'll patch myself up back at the State House," she said, hopping down off the rusted metal table.

Hancock tucked the chem back where he'd found it with a slight shake of his tricorn covered head and reached for his knife. He offered her his shotgun, but she knocked it away, holding her hand out for his knife instead.

"Why ya gotta be such a relentless pain in the ass?" Hancock flipped his blade around, offering her the hilt, which she took with a fiendish smile.

"What? You want me to be all sweet like that piece of ass ya ran off with?"

Hancock took a deep breath, pausing in the door frame as Fahrenheit stomped down the hall toward the steps.

"If you think she's sweet, then ya clearly didn't pay much attention. No partner of mine is anything less than brutal and bloodthirsty when the situation calls for it."

"Partner?" Fahr stopped, one foot on the first stair. "So it's like that?"

"Yeah. It's like that. So quit calling my girl a piece of ass."

"Roger that. Boss." She continued staring at him for a long moment before continuing down the stairs, feet landing heavily on each one.

Hancock sighed to himself. He shouldn't have used that word. _Partner._ Fahrenheit didn't care who he fucked, but she did care who he fought beside. She had bore the title of partner for years and he felt like an ass for throwing it in her face. _She's always dishin' it out though. Sometimes enough's enough._

He followed her down the stairs, covering the hole that used to be his nose with the crook of his arm. _Welcome home._

"Well, that lie wasn't quite as spectacular as I imagined, but damn near. At least you took credit for a couple of the kills, but did you have to tell them I carried you out?" Adriana's whispered voice tickled his ear, making it hard to focus on her words.

"You look a little scrawny and I didn't want anyone questioning your physical strength. I mean, if you can handle all this," he paused dramatically, "then you must be strong."

Adriana's laugh filled the air and it took all his self control not to crack a smile.

"If you're finished with that nonsense, why don't you show me around?"

"You wanna talk about nonsense? Why don't we talk about the code name you picked?" Deacon raised one ginger colored brow in her direction and she smiled largely, clearly pleased with herself.

"What's wrong with it? You don't like it?" She pitched her voice innocently, tilting her head questioningly.

"I just think your intentions were less than pure, Professor."

Adriana lost it, leaning heavily against him as she laughed. He shook his head, but he was soon chuckling along with her, the sound of her mirth too infectious to resist.

"I just… can't…" she wheezed.

"Well you're gonna have to, Prof." Deacon forced out, his own laugh bubbling uncontrollably out of him. "That's what you get."

"I couldn't resist. The idea of you sounding like the pupil…"

"Yeah, well let it out now, because you're stuck with that ridiculous name and I'd like it if you didn't get killed just because I called you by it and you dissolved in a puddle of laughter in front of a bunch of Gen 2's." His words were softened by a genuine smile. It wasn't often that someone inspired a truthful response out of him and he knew he should shut it down, but he couldn't bring himself to end the moment.

"Should change it? I guess I could talk to Desdemona."

"No way, Professor. It's yours, signed and paid for. You already drove it off the lot and I don't have to tell you how much depreciation occurs the minute that happens." Deacon shrugged. "At this rate we might as well take her for a spin and introduce you around."

He held out an arm and she slipped hers through it, humor flushed face looking up at him expectantly.

"Lead on."

"I figure it's best to ease you in, so why don't we start with Tinker Tom?"

Fahrenheit stayed several feet ahead of Hancock the entire trip back to Goodneighbor. She had just reached the Old Corner Bookstore when they met up with the group coming to help them from town.

"Too late! Might as well turn around! The mayor's already saved the fucking day, losers."

"He wouldn't have if I hadn't gone all the way up to Sanctuary to get him!" Larry narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

"That just means only one of you isn't completely useless," she spat before storming away.

Larry turned toward Hancock, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb in Fahrenheit's direction.

"What's up with her? I mean, she's never exactly Miss Sunshine, but damn!"

"She was almost turned into blood art by a psycho and then I showed up calling Adriana my partner."

Larry sucked air so hard that it whistled, eyes wide.

"Yeah, I know. I fucked up." Hancock's shoulders slumped as he watched Fahr's retreating form.

"Better go make it right," Larry patted him on the back in sympathy, "or we're all gonna pay."

Hancock nodded and trudged on, doom and gloom in every step.

"Did you not see me shaking my head?" Deacon's voice reached her ears, an urgent whisper that barely registered with her. "Never take anything Tom gives you!"

Adriana moaned incoherently as Deacon supported most of her weight, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist. He helped her over to a little alcove that was home to a pair of dirty mattresses and gently laid her down, lifting her head to slide an over-stuffed straw pillow under her head.

"It burns," she gasped, eye squeezed shut, wishing she hadn't stupidly let that kook inject that shit into her arm. It felt like fire, but moved like molasses. It worked it's way through her body, down to her fingers and then creeping toward her toes leaving nothing but agony in its wake. She couldn't decide which was worse, being still or moving.

"I know it does. I should have knocked it out of his hand, but I didn't think you'd ever agree. Looks like the Professor still has some lessons of her own to learn."

"Shut. Up." She pried one eye open and was surprised to see that even as his voice was light and teasing, the lines around his mouth were creased with worry. "'Ease you in' you said. Lies."

Deacon's mouth turned up at one corner as he looked down at her.

"Don't take it personally. I lie to everyone."

Adriana closed her eye again and tried to relax into the thin mattress, taking slow even breaths. She was so focused on the pain that she didn't notice Deacon's hand running through her hair at first. It was just a small gesture of comfort, probably all he could muster, and that just made it all the more meaningful. She was careful not to acknowledge him as she tried to work through the pain, breathing in and out in time with the rhythm of his fingers' gentle caress until she drifted off into an exhausted, restless sleep.

When Hancock opened the door to the State House, he could hear Fahrenheit upstairs, pulling open cabinets and rifling through them, footsteps heavy as she moved around the room, pacing. As much as he wished he could put this shit off, he knew it was like a wound and the longer he let it go without treatment, the more likely it was to fester. He never should have said what he had. He knew the only reason she had talked trash on Adriana was because he had run off with barely a goodbye. The two of them had always been a team and he hadn't been sensitive to that.

He crept up the stairs and stood in the doorway as Fahrenheit pulled off what remained of her armor and went about trying to wash out the various wounds she had acquired. Hancock walked up and took the rag from her hands. She opened her mouth to complain, insist she didn't need his damn help, but he cut her off.

"I know you don't need any help, but I need to do something. I fucked up, Fahr. Let me do something nice. For once."

Her mouth closed around whatever she had planned to say and she nodded, eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she let him clean the grime out of her injuries without a peep. Surprisingly, none of the cuts were bad enough to need stitches, so he pulled out the Stimpak he had tried to give her earlier and administered it.

"Look, I know I've been an insensitive ass, but you ain't been all that pleasant either," Hancock threw the rag down onto the table, brow raised pointedly.

"Yeah, alright. I've been a bitch. It's just," she sighed, looking away before she continued, "it's always been the two of us. I knew shit was going to change the first night you brought her up here."

"Yeah, things are changing," Hancock agreed, nodding, "and yeah you've been a bitch, but you're my bitch and I wouldn't have it any other way, sister. You and me, we're fuckin' family."

He pulled her into a hug and she struggled against him, but her heart wasn't in it and he could tell.

"Speaking of your girl, where the hell is she?" Fahrenheit pulled away from him looking around in alarm like Adriana might pop up from behind a sofa at any moment.

"A lot has happened since we left here. Why don't we grab some whiskey and I'll tell ya all about it."

The two of them spent the rest of the evening side by side on the sofa, passing both the whiskey bottle and stories between them until the sky grew light with the coming of morning.

 _Already fucking things up. I'm clearly not cut out for this partner business._

Deacon could tell she was asleep, if fitfully, and it hurt him to see her so miserable when he could have prevented it. He used his thumb to smooth out the pained wrinkle between her eyebrows and settled in for the night. There would be no sleep for him until he knew she was alright.

 _It's the least you can do._

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Thank you for reading!


	21. The Handbook of Assholery

Hancock watched from his window as Adriana and Deacon blew into town, arm in arm, both laughing at some shared jest. His heart twinged at the sight, but he shoved it down and smiled, turning toward the door only to find Fahrenheit watching him with narrowed eyes. She had clearly seen what he had, but she only stepped back, clearing the path for him. Thankful for her uncharacteristic silence, he hurried out of the room and away from her knowing gaze, feet heavy on the stairs. Before he could even reach the bottom, the door flew open and there she was, outlined in sunshine.

"John!" She dropped her bag and threw herself across the distance between them, one that had seemed much larger just moments before, and then she was pressed against him, mouth searching as his fingers dug into her hips desperately.

The relief of her body against his mingled with the bitter taste of doubt and he had to fight the urge to take her there on the stairs for anyone to see. _For him to see._

"John, I've missed you," she gasped against his mouth, needily rubbing against him as one of her hands trailed down the ruffled front of his shirt. _I'm an undeserving ass._ Even if she did want someone else, how could he think she'd lie to him about it? "Let me show you how much."

"Okay," was all he could muster as he picked her up, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He carried her up the stairs and kicked the door to his office shut behind them after a cursory glance to make sure Fahrenheit had vacated it. He spun, pressing her against the door, her moans filling his ears as he covered the scarred flesh of her neck with hungry kisses.

"I need you, John."

The words sounded like a dream come true and he dropped her onto her feet, hands finding her buckle and loosening it so he could shove her jeans halfway down her long legs. A growl rumbled deep in his chest at the sight of her damp curls, eyes darting up to meet hers and damn if she didn't look just as starved as him.

Reaching out, she unknotted the flag around his hips with a practised ease. Her eyes held his for a moment before she slowly turned around, bracing herself against the door and shooting him a devious look over her shoulder as she twitched her ass temptingly.

"Fuck, I've missed you," he rasped as he freed himself from his pants. One hand dipped between her shapely thighs, groaning at the wetness he found.

"Now, John," she pleaded, fingernails scraping against the wooden door.

He grasped his cock in one hand, her hip in the other and forced his way inside with a slow, deep thrust, both of them crying out.

He couldn't move, overwhelmed for one long, glorious moment, but then Adriana squirmed impatiently beneath him and he pulled out only to thrust back in. He ran his fingers through her hair only to find it had grown in her absence and was now long enough that he could fist his hand into it, which he did eagerly.

Adriana whimpered his name, pushing back against him and the sound of the door rocking in its frame took him back to the very first time he had seen her; he had opened the door to reveal a beautiful mess, damaged but far from broken.

"I love you," he said, each word accented by the knocking of wood on wood.

"I love you too, John."

He covered one of her hands with his own, weaving their fingers together and used the hand in her hair to turn her head, their mouths finding each other in a desperate tangle.

Hancock broke the kiss, hands moving to her hips as he increased the pace, teeth finding the curve of her neck. She cried out, spasming around him, spurring him on as he fucked her harder through her release.

His strangled voice mingled with hers as he came, Adriana pressing back against him, taking him in deeper. His arms wrapped around her, cheek nuzzling into her back, both of them panting in the aftermath.

He pulled out of her with a groan and she turned around, eyes wide and glassy, to stroke his cheek.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long," she whispered.

"It's no big deal, love," he lied.

Adriana smiled, pulling up her pants and tugging her shirt back to rights as he did the same.

"Hold me?" She grabbed his hand, leading him toward the sofa and he followed in her wake, entranced.

"Always," he answered. He settled into the back of the sofa and she cuddled in close, one of his arms around her hips while the other pillowed beneath her head. He closed his eyes, lips peppering the back of her neck with feather soft kisses. He felt her drift off to sleep, but he just laid there, eyes open, clinging to her like a lifeline.

Deacon knew where his partner was. Who she was with. What she was doing. _Not that I care._ He bellied up to the bar and with a raise of his chin Whitechapel Charlie deposited a glass in front of him, tipping the bottle of whiskey over it until he nodded. Charlie started away, but Deacon stopped him.

"On second thought, why don't you leave the bottle?"

"No skin off me nose," Charlie said, putting the bottle down with a thud, "if I 'ad a nose, that is." Charlie quipped before moving back down the bar.

Deacon knocked back what was in his glass and quickly refilled it, turning to watch Magnolia as she cradled the microphone, crooning into it as if serenading a lover. She looked up, feeling his eyes on her, and winked.

"Or are you running from yourself?"

 _Me? Never._ He threw back another shot.

"Or are you hungry to be somebody else?"

 _Always._ Another shot.

"So sit down your pretty face."

 _As if._ Deacon looked at his glass, wondering why he was even bothering with such formalities at this point, and took a swig straight from the bottle. He closed his eyes as he swallowed, enjoying the fire that filled his stomach. It had been a long time since he'd let go enough to really drink. He hadn't picked up so much as a beer since the night Adriana almost died.

"Cause I'm the one you're lookin' for."

 _Sorry, Magnolia. Not tonight_. Magnolia was beautiful, witty and, most importantly, attachment free. She generally operated under the policy of one and done, as did he, but that's what made the two of them work. She was the one person he knew was completely safe, that he could be physical with without fear her wanting more than he could offer her. They were very similar; she just hid behind her songs instead of lies, like him. Every time they had been together it had been casual and brief. Just one friend helping out another friend. Naked. It suited them, but right now, knowing what Adriana was up to, it just wasn't enough.

"Hey there, stranger. You doin' alright?" Magnolia's voice was smoother than the whiskey, but just as warm as she sidled up to the bar next to him.

"I'm great, gorgeous. Freakin' fantastic," he answered, throwing back another shot.

"Clearly," she laughed, taking the bottle and downing a mouthful.

"Please, help yourself."

"I generally do, darlin'." She smiled, handing him the bottle back. "So what brings you to my neck of the woods? I've got a feeling this isn't the usual visit."

Deacon sighed. Drunk as he was, he didn't intend to spill his guts like some kind of cliche, so he just took another gulp instead.

"Can I offer you a little advice, one friend to another?" She leaned forward, one hand resting gently on his bicep, her dark hair falling forward to tickle his cheek as her lips brushed his ear. "You only live once, sugar. Better make the most of it."

Magnolia kissed his cheek and then sauntered off down the bar, hips swaying and making the red sequins of her dress catch in the dim light.

Night had long since fallen when Deacon finally stumbled up and out of the Third Rail. He had every intention of making his way across the street to the Hotel Rexford when out of nowhere, there she was. She rounded the corner, probably headed into the Rail, and he just stopped, heart hammering in his chest.

"Hey partner," she said, reaching out to steady him as he swayed on his feet. Her arm slid around his waist and Deacon turned into the embrace. _Just for a second._ "You okay?"

Her eyebrows were furrowed with worry and he wanted more than anything to press a kiss in between them.

"When am I not?"

Adriana just sighed and smiled, but her eyes still looked sad. _She needs some sun glasses._ As he looked down at her, concern in every line of her face, Magnolia's words rang in his head as the whiskey buzzed through his veins and then he was moving. His hand was cupping her jaw, one thumb caressing the tanned skin of her cheek while his other arm wrapped around her waist and then he was kissing her and, here's the important part, she was kissing him back. _She's kissing me back._ And then the bubble burst.

 _What the fuck am I doing? She's my best, my only, friend and here I am ruining everything!_ He pulled away from her, or maybe she stepped back first, everything was such a blur he wasn't quite sure. The only thing he was sure of was Hancock standing there, fury clearly written all over his face.

Hancock opened his mouth fully prepared to kick the both of them straight out of Goodneighbor, and his life, when the night erupted in blue sparks. The small courtyard went from almost empty to filled to capacity in mere moments. Hancock looked around wildly, terror seizing his heart, only to realize what the Gen 2's were after.

"Hancock!" Adriana's terrified cry cut through all the other noise, stabbing straight through him. All he could do was stand there in shock as a pair of synths threw Deacon to the ground while another pair grabbed Adriana. She fought them, but it was no use. There were too many of them and in the next instant they were all gone in another flash of blinding blue light.

No one spoke and the silence stretched on until it reached an unbearable level and Hancock just had to say anything to make it stop. He turned to where Deacon had been thrown only to find the pavement empty of the treacherous spy.

"Where the fuck'd you go, you slippery little shit?" Hancock yelled into the night, but no answer was forthcoming. The Neighborhood Watch that were in evidence wisely kept their mouths shut and Hancock growled in frustration, tearing down the path toward the State House door. Fahrenheit appeared on the doorstep before he could reach it, clearly looking for him.

"What the fuck's goin' on? A bunch of Gen 2's just appeared in the State House, looked around and then disappeared again."

"I know and they took Adriana with them!" Hancock responded, eyes wide, hands shaking with the need to be doing something, anything, but not knowing what. He didn't care if she did want to be with Deacon, she didn't deserve to end up kidnapped by the Institute. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. _Well, maybe on Deacon_. Hancock took a deep breath, trying not to picture Adriana in his arms, but the image seemed to be burned into his retinas.

"They did what?"

"You heard me! They took her. What the fuck do I do?" Hancock looked to her, eyes begging her to have some kind of idea as to what they should do, because he sure as hell didn't have a clue. Fahrenheit sighed, shaking her head, but she didn't look away.

"Nothing, John." Her voice was quiet, but firm, and when she used his first name he knew the situation was truly as bad as he had feared. "She's gone."

Deacon fled as soon as Adriana disappeared. Watching his best friend get kidnapped by the Institute had been instantly sobering and he had to get to the Railroad right away. He was intentionally stuffing down any emotional response he wanted to have and he was definitely not thinking about anything that may have happened right before said kidnapping. _No time for all that self-hate now._

When he blew into HQ, everyone that was awake looked up. No one ran in unless something bad was going down, so within the blink of an eye several weapons were drawn and pointed. _Look at me, acting like a rookie. Awesome._

"What's happened, Deacon?" Desdemona asked, gun still at the ready and pointed at the door behind him.

"The Institute kidnapped Adriana." Saying it out loud made it real and he felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I realized something though, Dez. We've been so stupid. How'd we not see it sooner?! I mean, wow!"

"How we didn't see what?" She asked as she lowered her gun.

"The synths that grabbed Adriana appeared out of thin air or, more accurately, in a flash of blue light. We're always saying, 'It's like they appeared out of nowhere.' That's because they actually do! I think those tricky bastards are teleporting! That's why we've never been able to find them!"

Desdemona's eyes got wider and wider as he spoke and he could tell that she believed him. Before she could respond, a loud laugh rang out, echoing off the exposed brick tauntingly. _Carrington._ It took all of Deacon's self control not to punch the smug bastard, but losing even more of his control, in front of everyone no less, would only serve to further discredit him. _Yeah, it's not like I haven't made an entire career out of discrediting myself up to this point._

"I have to say, Deacon, this is a new low," Carrington chuckled before pursing his lips and causing his frown lines to stand out even more clearly. "Even for you."

"That's funny. I was going to say the same thing to you," Deacon quipped, consciously relaxing his hands and letting them hang uselessly at his sides.

"How'd you come up with teleportation? Read it in one of your comic books?"

"Hey, at least I read something other than _The Handbook of Assholery_. What chapter are you up to now? 'How to lose friends and influence?'" Deacon couldn't take the disdain in Carrington's brown eyes and worse, it seemed to be catching. _I have given my life to this cause and this is how they treat me? Sure, I fucking lie, but never about a lead. Never._ The more he thought about it, the more their looks of annoyance hurt.

"I think I leant that particular book to you and from the looks of it, you're almost finished with it," Carrington threw back at him.

"Knock it off!" Desdemona shot the doctor a dirty look, quelling the growing amusement among the onlookers. "This isn't how we treat our agents, especially our most senior one! Get back to work," she snapped, jerking her head to indicate Deacon should follow her.

"Thanks, Dez," he muttered to the back of her head as he followed her out of the main room.

"If you didn't trick all the rookies into believing you were a synth, maybe I wouldn't have to defend you like that."

"Maybe if Carrington would remove the stick from his-"

"Enough." Desdemona held up her hand. "I wish the two of you would act like adults, but it's pretty clear that's never happening. Regardless," she said with a sigh, "teleportation? Tell me more about this theory."

Deacon told her everything that had happened, everything except for the friendship ruining kiss that is, and then stood silently, waiting for her to work through it on her own.

"I think you might be onto something here, but I also think Carrington has made it so only Tinker Tom will believe you." Deacon opened his mouth to interject, but she just kept talking, "I'm reassigning all your open missions so you can focus solely on finding a way into the Institute. This is the biggest lead we've had and I don't want you distracted by dead drops. Take all the supplies you need. I'm going to relocate most of us for now in case Adriana slips and discloses our location. I'll leave eyes here and if no synths storm the place, then I guess we'll know our trust wasn't misplaced. I'm not taking anymore chances, not after the Switchboard."

"I know she won't say anything, but I don't blame you. A repeat of that could be the end of us," Deacon acknowledged. "I'll find you when I have something."

"I know you will."

Deacon started to walk away, but paused, looking back over his shoulder.

"Thanks for believing me, Dez."

She didn't respond, but the sad smile on her face said it all.

Fahrenheit peeked into Hancock's office, but he was still passed out. It had been a week since Adriana had been taken and he hadn't left his office since. _This is why it's better not to get attached. I knew nothing good would come of her._ It had been a long time since he had gone on a bender as bad as this one.

Moving with a grace that seemed at odds with her size and demeanor, she crept into the room, closing the door carefully behind her. Hancock was slouched in his favorite spot on the sofa, tricorn pulled low on his forehead, feet propped up on the coffee table.

She got close enough to make sure he was still breathing and let out a sigh of relief before turning to go.

"Don't leave, Fahr," his voice cracked over her name as his hand found hers. She paused, squeezing her eyes shut. _This is why it's better not to get attached._

"Of course not," she answered before turning to sit next to him.

"I have to do something, Fahr. I can't just let them have her. She's already been through so much."

"Haven't we all?"

Her words hung in the air between them, his hand hot in hers, their shoulders pressed together. "I'm going to find Deacon, kick his sorry ass, and then I'm going to make him help me find Adriana."

"Solid plan, boss."

"I thought so, too." He said before closing his eyes. It was only a couple moments before he was asleep again, but Fahrenheit didn't move. She sat, holding his hand as he slept off the drugs and booze, knowing that the next time he woke he would do exactly as he said. This time when he left Goodneighbor, he might not come back. People that messed with the Institute had a habit of disappearing.

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	22. Wrecking Ball

Deacon had discretely met with almost every contact he had, but he was no closer to the Institute or saving Adriana. HQ had been cleared out and he was, for the first time since he joined the Railroad, without a place to go. He had always stayed on the outskirts of the group, checking in, but always being quick to head back out. It was easier that way. He thought it would make things like the Switchboard easier to accept, move passed, but he had been wrong. Everything was such a mess and he no one to turn to.

On top of all of it, he was pretty sure he had single-handedly ruined Adriana's relationship and the worst part was that one kiss had made it painfully clear to him that he didn't even want her. At least, not in the way he thought he had. _I'm the biggest ass in the Commonwealth._ He loved her, but when they had kissed, he hadn't felt a thing. No spark. No passion. After all the anticipation, the months of building it up in his mind and the initial shock of _it finally happening_ wore off _,_ he realized he had royally fucked everything all to hell _for no reason._ He loved her as a best friend, as his partner in crime, but there was nothing physical between them. _How am I going to fix this?_

In all honesty, figuring out how to transport into the Institute seemed much easier to accomplish than making amends with Hancock. _Coward._ Deacon was giving the mayor a wide berth, while he hopefully calmed down. _Ya, right._ He wasn't going anywhere near Goodneighbor or Diamond City since he wasn't keen on running into Hancock's synthetic best friend, either. Now the only decent place to get a drink and wallow for the night was Sanctuary. _Yes, drink more. That'll fix everything._

That was the plan, such as it was, but when he strolled up to Vault 111 he heard a raspy chuckle accompanied by a flash of red. _Fuck._

The baseball bat hit him hard, right behind the knees, making him collapse. He instinctively curled into a ball, hands over his head, and was rewarded with a sharp kick to the ribs. He wanted to get up and run, he was willing to bet he was faster than Hancock and he definitely had a more impressive lung capacity, but that would solve nothing. _I just have to take my medicine._

"You're so damn predictable." Hancock grunted as he kicked him several times in the stomach. "Knew you'd come here eventually."

"Glad I didn't dissapoint," Deacon managed to force the words out, even as he was struggling for air.

"You really don't know when to keep that smart mouth of yours shut, do ya?"  
"Obviously not, my mouth being what got us here and all," Deacon retorted, groaning as Hancock's boot found his ribs again.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" A few more kicks and another visit from the bat and Deacon was positive that he had at least one broken rib.

"What's not would be a… shorter list," he gasped.

"Just answer me one question, were the two of you fooling around behind my back this whole time?" The ghoul's voice cracked under the weight of all his pain and Deacon uncovered his face, slowly reaching up to take off his glasses.

"No. I was drunk. I fucked up. Adriana loves you and I'm just the asshole that came in like a wrecking ball and smashed everything all to hell," he said, looking up to meet Hancock's eyes. He was almost positive it was the truth and he had to make Hancock believe it for Adriana's sake. _I mean, she did kiss me back… No. Stop that._

"I believe you," Hancock choked out after several moments of silence.

"Good," Deacon sighed in relief, feeling just a tiny bit better. Which only served to make Hancock's fist heading straight toward his face even more confusing. _But I thought we had it all worked out?_ His face exploded in pain and then there was, thankfully, nothing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hancock looked down at Deacon, lips pressed into a thin line. He threw the bat to the ground and started to walk away before he turned back and brought his booted foot down onto Deacon's glasses with a satisfying crunch. He knew it was petty, but he didn't really care. He reached into this pocket and pulled out a few Mentats, which he popped into his mouth on his way back down to town.

He was pretty sure Deacon had been telling the truth, but he still had questions that only Adriana could answer. For starters, why the hell did it look like she was kissing him back? _No point worrying about all that until we get her back._ Deacon really was his best hope of finding her and once he woke up and took a couple Stims, it was time to buckle down and get to work. They had wasted more than enough time as it was.

As he strolled down the cracked pavement of former Suburbia, he noticed Talitha heading his way.

"Hey, if you're heading up to the Vault, you mind taking Deacon a couple of Stimpaks? He's going to need them when he wakes up," Hancock smirked, reaching into his pocket and then depositing the meds into her waiting hands. He knew he could have just left them lying there, but then Deacon would have known they were from him and that would have looked a little too much like remorse.

"Sure, I was headed up to help Codsworth at the bar anyway."

"Do me a favor and don't tell him those were from me," Hancock requested as she hurried away.

Talitha waved her hand over her shoulder at him dismissively, not even bothering to turn around.

 _Now that that's taken care of, might as well check in with Sturges._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Talitha took the Stimpaks and headed up to the Vault, her worry turning to dread the closer she got. As soon as she saw Deacon, she knew her intuition had been right on the money. Two Raiders were standing over his body, one of them was nudging him with a foot to check if he was still alive while the other had a gun leveled at his bruised face. _Fucking hell._

Talitha pulled her gun from the waistband of her pants before yelling to draw their attention from the incapacitated Deacon. They turned toward her and the one with his weapon drawn immediately began firing in her direction. Lucky for her, the guy was a terrible shot.

She aimed, took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger three times in quick succession. The Raider with the gun dropped, but her hopes that the second one would run were quickly dashed. He reached for his own gun and Talitha wasted no time in shooting him as well. She had almost reached Deacon's side when she saw him struggling to sit up. He looked toward her and his eyes filled with terror.

"Watch out!"

But it was too late. The baseball bat connected with her side and she fell straight down onto the swell of her pregnant belly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Deacon woke up from one nightmare to find himself in a much worse one. He was laying next to two dead bodies and there was Talitha, gun out, walking toward him. Only she wasn't alone. Some Raider bitch had picked up the bat Hancock had used on him and was winding up like she was anticipating a home run. He tried to warn her, but he was too slow.

Talitha fell as he scrambled to retrieve his gun. It had gotten dislodged in the tussle with Hancock and by the time he had found it, the Raider was kicking her in the stomach. Deacon unloaded his clip into her and then scrambled to his rescuer's side, afraid of what he would find.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Adriana was going to go crazy if she didn't see something more than white walls soon. Everything was so unnaturally clean; it was disconcerting. She wasn't even sure how long it had been since there were no windows, but she had been counting meals and her best guess was a week. A whole week of Hancock thinking that she might want Deacon instead of him. She wanted to throw herself at the walls, screaming, but she was smarter than that. She wasn't going to waste her energy, because that would be when they decided to confront her; she just knew it.

So she waited patiently. At least there was a shower, complete with water so hot it would leave her skin red long after she had stepped out from under its delightful spray. There were books to read and a notebook of clean, lined paper, pen waiting patiently next to it. She sat, staring into space, for a long time before finally deciding that if she couldn't talk to Hancock, the least she could do was write to him. She hesitated, not wanting to give them any more information on her than they already had, but they had found her in Goodneighbor after all. She grabbed the notebook and sat down on the bed, propping it up on her bent knees.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _John,  
Love, I know what happened looked bad. I know you're pissed and I get it. Really. I just hope you didn't kill him. Deacon's a mess and there is nothing but friendship there, he just needed to see it for himself. He wasn't going to be happy until he completely self destructed, so I let him kiss me to hurry the process along. He had to see for himself that there is nothing physical between us and I was, frankly, tired of the tension. I love you and I like to think that if I hadn't been snatched up at the worst possible moment, you would have let me explain._

 _I know that it's hard to trust, hard to believe, but please try. Has it ever been difficult for us? Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me before? For me, it's you. It always has been and, I hope, it always will be. Remember that night in the tower? I love you even more now than I did then. I want you with me always, John.  
Once I get the fuck out of this room, I am going to make my way back to you and once I find you again, I am never letting you go. EVER. You hear me, John Hancock? You're mine. Forever._

 _Love,_

 _Adriana_

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She signed the letter with a flourish as her vision blurred and hastily looked away, determined not to cry on the beautifully crisp paper. He just had to believe her. _Right?_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After her next meal, which she ate without even tasting, she got the notebook back out. Deacon and she had some shit to work out, too. Writing the letter to Hancock had at least made her feel like she had done something productive, something to help fix the mess she had left behind, however unwillingly. Maybe a letter to Deacon would help ease some more of the constant worry that was twisting her stomach into knots.

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 _Deacon,_

 _First, let me say that I hope you are still among the living. Hancock can be ruthless when he's been wronged, especially where I'm concerned. I have a feeling you already know that, though. If I hadn't been whisked off before I could talk to Hancock, I might have been able to save you from your fate, but alas… here we are._

 _I hope you see now that you were just sabotaging yourself. Again. You gotta stop that shit. You're better than that, believe me. I know something terrible must have happened for you to think otherwise, but trust me when I say you have more than made up for it. You have saved so many lives, done so many good things that you get next to no acknowledgement for. Maybe one day you'll decide to tell me what went down and I promise to listen. As a friend, you ass. A friend._

 _You felt it, right? The complete lack of physical connection? That's why I kissed you back. I wanted you to really see that you were making yourself crazy over nothing. If I had known that I was going to be nabbed by a bunch of synths, I might have played it differently. God, the look on Hancock's face? You owe me big time, Deacon. This is a total disaster._

 _YOUR FRIEND,_

 _Adriana_

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She stared down at the letter, but she didn't feel better this time. She just felt worse for Hancock and wanted to punch Deacon in the face. _Don't worry, John's probably already done that for you._ What did it say about her that the thought brought her a tiny bit of solace? _Nothing good, I'm sure._

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When the door finally opened, Adriana didn't even bother to look up. She just continued to read her book like nothing had changed. She had given this moment a lot of careful thought and had formulated a plan. They obviously wanted something from her and she needed to find out what it was sooner rather than later if she had any hope of getting back to Hancock. Unless they wanted the location of the Railroad, that is. She would have bet money that Deacon had gotten everyone out, but she wasn't willing to bet lives.

The man standing in the doorway cleared his throat, but she just stubbornly stared at the page before her. _Your move, asshole. I got all day._ The man shifted his weight from one foot the other and she could tell he was going to break first.

"One might think you would be more excited to meet your son, Nora." His voice sounded like that of an old man, but his words were one of a petulant child.

"My name is Adriana," she answered without looking up. She didn't give a shit if the old guy really was her biological son, no one that kidnapped you and kept you isolated for days on end with no explanation was someone she cared to be friendly. _Just find out what he wants so you can get the hell out of here._ "You must be confused."

"I think you're the one that's confused, but we can help you with that. It's clear that you've lost your memory, an unfortunate side effect of all that time in cryo-sleep. I think we have figured out a way to reset it for you."

 _Reset?_ It took all her self control not to fly into a panic. She didn't want to be Nora. She wasn't willing to give up Hancock just so she could play mommy to this overgrown man child. If that's what he wanted then he was going to be sorely disappointed.

"I'm good. Thanks anyway," she said with a smile, finally looking up to meet coffee colored eyes the same shade as her own and a little shiver ran up her spine.

"Surely you want to remember your past?"

"Not if it means giving up who I am now, as the word reset implies. Why would I give up everything I have now to remember a world that burned? People that are almost all dead?"

"To remember me," he answered, as if he couldn't believe that wasn't good enough.

"Remember what about you? You were a tiny baby when we went into the Vault, I read about it on the terminal. You don't want me to remember; you want me to hurt just so that you can feel better and that's not something I'm willing to do."

"Wait, you knew I existed and you didn't try to find me?" The look on his face changed from carefully managed confusion to all out rage in the blink of an eye.

 _This is going well._

"What was I supposed to do? I had no leads, no memory of what happened… nothing!" She carefully did not add the lack of emotional attachment to that list, eyes wide, begging for him to show a little understanding.

"I can't even look at you. You're such a disappointment." He turned on his heel and stormed out, the door crashing into it's frame behind him.

 _Same could be said of you, kid._

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Several days passed with only the coming and going of food and even that, she was almost positive, had started coming at longer intervals. _Maybe he really is my kid. He certainly has my stubborn streak._ She was starting to lose it internally, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. So she sat and she stared while her inner self started to thoroughly fall to pieces. She tried to picture Hancock, down to the tiniest detail. The shapes of his long fingers, how one thumbnail was permanently black from being smashed, the rueful look on his face whenever he caught a glimpse of it. His smirk. The sexy rasp of his voice. _This isn't helping._

The door opened and Adriana stood up, turning to face the woman that entered.

"Father will see you now. He has a proposition for you," she said crisply, motioning for Adriana to precede her out the door.

Adriana looked around the room before complying, running her hand over the back pocket of her pants and feeling relief at the outline of her letters tucked inside. _Let's do this._

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Deacon hadn't moved from Talitha's side since he had woken up to find her coming to his defence. He held one of her hands between his, surprised by how small it was. She was fairly tall for a woman, the high side of average at least, but her hand felt tiny in his. He rested his head on their clasped hands, at the end of his rope. _I have to be better. I can't keep being the reason other people get hurt._

"I share a piece of the blame in this one, too."

Deacon hadn't heard Hancock enter the room, but then again, the voices in his head were all being pretty loud with their recriminations at the moment, so no big surprise there.

"I sent her up there with Stimpaks for ya cause I was too proud to just give 'em to ya myself," he added when Deacon made no move to acknowledge him.

"If I hadn't been a total asshole, we wouldn't have been in this position at all."

Hancock apparently couldn't think of a counter to that line of logic and Deacon wished he could just take it all back, but that wasn't how kisses worked. _Fuck._

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If you would like to see some art I commissioned from the lovely Vectober to go along with this chapter, visit me on tumblr! panicatthethirdrail


	23. Failsafe

"I, for one, am glad you're an asshole. I was headed to my shift at the bar and if you hadn't been there, I would have been all alone with three Raiders. So, you know... dead." Talitha didn't open her eyes, just squeezed Deacon's hand when he tried to pull away. "Thank you."

"For what? Watching you get beat with a baseball bat?"

"Wow you're stubborn," she said with a chuckle that turned into a cough, sending Deacon into a scramble to grab the can of water waiting for her on the bedside table. He carefully slipped a hand behind her head, helping her sit up, before passing it to her. She took several small sips, sighing in relief as the liquid slid down her parched throat. "Thanks."

"Least I could do, you saving my sorry ass and all," Deacon smiled, eyes crinkling at their corners. _I've never seen him without his glasses._ His eyes were a pale, icy blue, but they were, more notably, the saddest eyes she had ever seen.

"Cheer up, man. I'm alive," she said with a smile, handing him the water back. He took his time returning it to the nightstand before turning to exchange a look with Hancock. The ghoul nodded and Deacon sighed. He reached for her hand again and she let him have it, watching as he stared at their clasped hands.

"But the baby isn't." His words echoed through her head. _I'm free_ , she thought followed immediately by a horrified, _I'm the worst person ever._

The men must have taken her silence for sadness, because they both started talking at the same time in an effort to comfort her.

"Stop," she whispered. "It's okay. You guys know that baby wasn't one I chose, right? I was going to do right by it, I mean, it wasn't to blame for its dad being a dirty, raping slaver after all. I just wasn't exactly thrilled about it, if I'm being honest."

It was her turn to stare at their hands, avoiding eye contact at all costs. She didn't need to see the recrimination on their faces. _I feel bad enough as it is._

She felt two fingers under her chin applying gentle but persistent pressure until she allowed Deacon to raise her face to meet his gaze. She had rarely met someone with eyes as expressive as his and it was immediately clear why he preferred to wear his sunglasses. _He would be an awful poker player._

"Doll, no one's gonna fault ya for not bein' heartbroken," Hancock spoke up from the foot of the bed, confirming everything she could see written on Deacon's face.

"I know I'm not. You've been through enough without beating yourself up. It doesn't help," he paused, smiling ruefully. "Trust me, I'm the resident expert on the subject."

"Hell, sometimes he even outsources. Dude's hardcore."

Even as Talitha laughed, tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Deacon reached up, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away one that spilled over when she blinked.

"You make jokes like you don't know a thing about being too hard on yourself. Funny. How'd you become a ghoul again, Hancock?" His eyes didn't leave hers as they filled with mischief, smirky little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"You're soundin' awful brave for someone that just got a beat down," Hancock remarked.

"Yeah, well I've done my penance now. Next time I'll fight back. Or run. Yeah, probably run," he said winking at Talitha before leaning back some. He started to let go of her hand, but when she tightened her grip he didn't even bat an eye. He just held on.

"You think you're faster than me?"

"Uh, yeah old man. I am clearly in better shape than you."

"Old man? You're one to talk, gramps. You know so much about life before the war, you sure you weren't born pre-apocalypse?"

Talitha knew they were carrying on for her benefit and she couldn't have been more grateful. She could feel her eyelids getting heavy and soon drifted off to the pleasant hum of their voices.

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When Talitha's breathing finally slowed down, Hancock watched as Deacon extricated his hand from hers and then pulled the covers up higher, tucking her in. _Well, well, well…_

He jerked his head towards the hallway and Deacon nodded, following him out and closing the door quietly behind them.

"She's gonna be alright," Hancock said when they got downstairs, side eyeing Deacon.  
"I think so, too." He sighed with relief, putting his hands in his jean pockets. They stood in silence for a long moment before Deacon narrowed his eyes at him. "Did you really have to smash my glasses?"

"Hey, I think you should consider yourself lucky I didn't smash you more," he replied even as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a new pair, handing them over.

Deacon took them, inspecting them suspiciously. Before depositing them on his face with a relieved sigh.

"Thanks, Hancock."

"Trashcan Carla just happened to have some," Hancock explained with a shrug just as a commotion sounded outside. They exchanged worried looks and ran outside to see the settlers gathered around something in the middle of the street.

Hancock's heart rate picked up as he pushed his way through the crowd, Deacon on his heels. _It couldn't be._ But it was. There in the middle of the crowd was Adriana, looking unsteady but unharmed.

"John!" And then she was running into his arms. He didn't even question it, he just picked her up, squeezing her tightly, heart hammering so loudly that he couldn't hear anything else. "I love you. It's always been you, John."

"I know, sunshine. I know. Don't give it another thought," he said before bringing his mouth down on hers, one hand finding the back of her head as her hands pulled at him, trying to get him closer. For a few glorious moments there was nothing but the two of them, lost in the relief of finding each other once more, but as moments like those usually are, it ended all too soon.

"John," she said urgently, pulling away. "There isn't much time."

"What do you mean, love?" His heart dropped, dread filling him. _I knew this was too easy. How could she just show up straight out of the Institute. No one walks away scot free._

"We have to figure something out. In two day's time the Institute is going to take me back and," she paused, mouth trying to form the words, "they're going to restore my memories as Nora."

He couldn't speak, couldn't think. He clung to her, desperate fear making his whole body tremor.

"I have a plan, but we've gotta move fast," Deacon interjected, popping up behind Hancock's shoulder. "Like, now. Let's go."

 _I knew there was a reason I didn't kill his ridiculous ass._

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Adriana immediately relaxed when Deacon announced that he had a plan.

"Oh, good. You didn't kill him," she said, trying not to smile as she looked into Hancock's eyes.

"I figured if he was gonna die, it should be at your hands, not mine. Didn't stop me from putting the beat down on him, though."  
"Did it knock some sense into you?" She turned to face him, smiling sweetly.

"As much as I love talking about me and my shortcomings, we gotta go. We have to get you to Dr. Amari. Who knows if the Institute will honor the timeline they gave you. I'm not willing to wait around to find out. You guys can make fun of me on the way, but let's get a move on!"

"Damn, Hancock. Looks like you knocked him into serious mode. I think I liked him better before, if I'm being honest," she joked, threading the fingers of one hand between those of one of his and turning to follow Deacon out of town.

Sturges had been listening to everything unfold, and followed them to the edge of town, wishing them luck and offering his help in anyway they might need. Adriana extricated herself from Hancock just long enough to give the handyman a hearty hug and then they were off.

They had just passed the Red Rocket gas station when Adriana couldn't take the silence any longer.

"John, you know I love you, right? That I only want you?" Her voice sounded small and scared, which she hated, but couldn't be helped. Sure he had greeted her like everything was fine, but that could have just been relief. They still needed to talk. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the two crinkled pieces of paper that had been her lifeline while in that sterile prison. "Here. For both of you." She handed each of them their respective letters and then clasped her hands together as they read.

Maybe it was silly or childish, but she really didn't want to have it all out the three of them. It was messy and complicated and if they couldn't do anything about Father's asinine plan she didn't want to spend any of her time arguing.

Deacon chuckled as soon as he started reading his letter, absentmindedly rubbing his ribs as he did. He looked serious for a few moments before a loud laugh erupted from him.

"I am an ass... " he agreed, nodding his head, followed by, "I sure did."

He finished his letter and then turned to her, with a smile.

"And here is where I pay you back for my nonsense by saving your ass. I know Dr. Amari can do what we need her to do. She doesn't like to, because it's risky and complicated, but she can do it. For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Professor."

Adriana laughed, thinking that she really was going to have to pick a new name. That one was never not going to be hilarious.

She had been carefully not watching Hancock, giving him what little privacy she could to digest her words, decide if they rang true to him. She knew that she could only tell him and hope for the best; she couldn't make him believe her.

"Sunshine," his voice broke through her silent fretting and she could tell just from his tone she shouldn't have doubted him, "I am yours as long as you want me."

She turned, stepping into his embrace and nuzzling into the side of his neck with a sigh of relief.

"I already told you how long I want you for. Forever."

They stood there for a long moment, just holding on tightly, trying not to think about how forever could only be two days away.

"Guys, I hate to break up this magical moment, but if you want that forever, we gotta go make it happen."

Never were more motivating words spoken.

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Deacon hurried them to Goodneighbor, thinking the only other time he had been this relieved to see its neon lights was when Adriana had first shown up here with him, unknowingly, in tow. The reaction of the people of Goodneighbor was mixed, to say the least. Daisy was beyond relieved to see her, running out from behind her counter to hug her tightly while other people kept their distance, eyes following her warily.

Adriana didn't seem to even notice, as she followed him to the Memory Den. He kept his face carefully blank as they strolled past the scene of the crime, keeping his cringe purely mental. _I'm never going to live that one down._

He opened the door, holding it for Adriana and Hancock and then following them inside. Irma was at her customary place, lounging on her chaise, and Dr. Amari was monitoring the loungers from her computer. The doctor's eyes widened when she saw him, since he made it a habit not to be seen privately with her. The less people that could be connected to him, the safer the Railroad would be if he ever got caught. He had briefed Hancock on protocols though, and the mayor had no problem publicly taking charge. _Right up the showboat's alley, in fact.  
_ "Hey, doc! I gotta talk to ya 'bout a private matter, if it's not too much trouble?"

"I always have time to talk to everyone's favorite mayor," Amari responded before turning to Irma. "Do you mind keeping an eye out, dear?"

"Not at all. I'll come get you if anything starts looking problematic," she answered with a smile.

"They're all regulars, so I don't anticipate any issues. Thanks." Amari, clasped the other woman's hand for a moment before turning to lead them down the stairs.

Once they were all on the other side of a firmly closed door, Dr. Amari looked between them, clearly concerned. Deacon cleared his throat and then laid out the situation as concisely as he could, paused, and then followed it with his solution.

"I think the only solution is to-"

"No. Absolutely not. Don't you remember how dangerous that was?" Her voice was pitched higher than he had ever heard it, eyes wide as she gestured largely.

"I was there and it was a success, so yes. I do, in fact, remember," Deacon answered calmly, which only seemed to further agitate her.

"I told you I would never do that again," she said through clenched teeth.

"Never say never, doc. Didn't anyone ever tell you that?" He smiled before turning to walk further into the room, all eyes on him. Hancock and Adriana were keeping, thankfully, quiet, trusting him to convince her. _Although why they would trust me, after everything, is anyone's guess._ "Look, last time if you messed up it, yeah, it would have been a big deal. Messing with someone's brain for an op, knowing the patient might never really be himself again if you make a tiny error, that's a lot of risk. I get it. The risk here, though…" he shook his head, lifting his shoulders, "nonexistent."

"How do you figure?"

"If you mess up, she isn't herself. If you do nothing, she isn't herself. At least if you try, we've done something. We can't just send her back to the Institute. They will wipe her memory. It'll be like she never existed, like none of this ever happened. For what? So she can suffer?"

Deacon watched her face as he made Adriana's case and he knew he had her. He hadn't been too concerned, in all honesty. He expected her to put up at least a token fight.

"Damn it, Deacon. Sometimes I wonder how I let you talk me into this all those years ago," she said, eyes narrowed to mere slits, "but then you talk me into something even crazier and I remember."

"Yeah, I always did have a way with the words." _Follow that up with some finger guns. Yeah, that's cool._

Amari sighed and turned to Adriana, clearly finished with Deacon and his nonsense, to explain exactly what they were going to do.

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"So, basically, we are going to create a failsafe. In terms you might be able to understand, I am going to backup your current memories, all the things that make you who you are, and hide them away. Deep. That way when they wipe you, you will still have that failsafe hidden away. After they wipe you, you will wake up as Nora. I can't keep that from happening, nor would you want me to. If you woke up and didn't act the way they expect, who knows how they would react."

"How will you make me remember, though?" Adriana hated the scared sound of her voice as she asked, clutching Hancock's hand tightly.

"A verbal trigger, a word or phrase, that means something to you. Now, just the word alone won't do it. Whatever word the two of you pick, Hancock will have to be the one to say it to you, or Nora in actuality. We wouldn't want someone at the Institute randomly saying it to you and waking you up in front of everyone, now would we?" Dr. Amari smiled, and Adriana knew she was trying to make light to put her at ease, but it wasn't working in the least. She was terrified. The idea of people poking around in her brain had her extremely anxious. _Give me Raiders and a hail of bullets any day._

This was something that was, by and large, out of her hands. She had to trust Amari to create this failsafe and hide it well enough that the Institute wouldn't find it, but she also had to trust that Hancock would find her and say the trigger. _If you can trust anyone, it's Hancock._

"So, what should the trigger be?" Adriana turned to Hancock, putting on her bravest face.

"How about 'sunshine'?" He smiled, albeit sadly, as he pulled her close.

Adriana nodded her agreement, not trusting her voice, before tucking her face into Hancock's neck. She needed a moment to collect herself, to just feel safe in his arms even if it was fleeting.

"It's going to work out," he whispered in her ear

"I hope you're right, love."

"Well, if you're ready, why don't you step over here?" Dr. Amari indicated where she should sit and Adriana pecked Hancock's cheek, set her shoulders and started in that direction.

"Not so fast," Hancock said, twirling her around and back into his arms, his mouth on hers hot and heavy.

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Deacon smiled, waiting for the two of them to come up for air. When they finally parted with dreamy, starstruck looks Deacon interjected.

"Look, I know you aren't a huge fan of Tinker Tom's work," he paused as she grimaced, "but it might behoove us to have a way of tracking you once you're gone. I think he was working on something like that when I spoke to him last. While you guys are doing this, I'm going to go hunt him down and see what he's got."

"Sounds like a solid plan," Hancock agreed while Adriana stepped forward, holding her arms out.

"Give me a hug, friend," she said with a shit eating grin that made him respond in kind. He stepped into her embrace, holding her just as tightly as she held him, grateful that he hadn't completely ruined everything like he feared he had. "We're okay, right?" She whispered.

"You don't ever have to ask. We're thick as thieves, my friend," he whispered back.

"Thanks for everything, Deacon." She stepped back, trying to smile, but failing utterly.

"Hey, don't you start that. This is going to work. Dr. Amari did this to me once and I came out the other side the same dysfunctional asshole I was to begin with, isn't that right?" He turned to the doc for confirmation and she begrudgingly agreed. "See? Don't worry. I'll see you soon."

With a nod to Hancock, he was out the door and heading back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Now he just had to find Tinker Tom and hope he had something they could use to keep track of Adriana's location. _Come out, come out wherever you are, ya crazy bastard..._


	24. Slipping Away

Adriana walked out of the Memory Den, arm linked with Hancock's as he supported her. It felt like Dr. Amari had used a fork to stir the contents of her brain and everything was still spinning around in there.

"Come on, love. You sure you don't want me to carry you?" He looked down at her, brow furrowed in concern as his other hand moved to cover hers.

"No. I can do it." Her mouth was set in concentration and she focused on putting one foot after the other. "Sorry, I appreciate it. I'm just-"

"Stubborn," he finished for her with a chuckle. "I wouldn't want ya any other way."

His words hung in the air, hitting far too close to home. Neither of them spoke the rest of the way to the State House, lost in their own thoughts and anxieties. They were both scared, trying to put on brave faces for the other and failing miserably.

Once he got her up the stairs and into his room, he motioned for her to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling before her to unlace her dirt-caked boots.

"I can-" but she stopped at the look on his face, realizing that maybe he just needed to do something for her.  
"I know, love." He carefully untied the laces of the first boot, loosening them all the way down before gently tugging it off her foot to reveal the whitest socks he had ever seen. Socks were rare in the Commonwealth, but socks this white were unheard of. She wiggled her toes, out of relief or just to show off her fancy footwear, he wasn't sure. _The Institute must have all kinds of useful shit in it._

Adriana watched as he released her foot from the second boot, his deft fingers making quick work of her laces. Next, he pulled off her socks and laid them next to her boots giving them a look that bordered on reverant. He turned back to her, rising up on his knees so he could wrap his arms around her hips. She plucked his hat from his head, sitting in down on the bed beside her, and he rested his head on her thigh, hands linked behind her.

They stayed like that for several minutes, him holding on to her while ran her fingers over his scalp, massaging and caressing, in an attempt to comfort him. Everything had gotten so twisted and now that things were finally straightened back out, they were running out of time. There was so much to say, so much she wanted to do, that she was overwhelmed, paralyzed.  
"I love you, John Hancock."

"Don't say it like that, with such finality," he pled, sitting up to look at her eyes that seemed to swallow all the light in the room.

"Dr. Amari said herself that we won't know if it worked until you try it. So much could go wrong," she whispered, afraid to speak her fears any louder.

"Shh, love," he stood up and, pushing his hat out of the way, sat down beside her, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her into his chest. "We've done all we can. We just have to have faith now."

Adriana slipped her hand under his coat and vest, so that the only thing that separated her hand from his skin was the thin material of his ruffled shirt. He was always so delightfully warm. She let her hand wander, tracing patterns into his side as she tried to shove down all the fear threatening to choke her. His hand found the little gap of uncovered skin between her shirt and her pants, enticing a small moan from her lips at the sensation of his hand on her bare skin.

Turning her head, she found the side of his neck, and pressed her lips to it, the fingers of her hand digging into his side. She nipped at his neck, eliciting a shuddering gasp from him as his hold on her hip tightened.

"I take it you're," he paused, swallowing loudly, "feeling better."

"A little, but I think there's still room for improvement," she answered, lips brushing against his neck as she spoke. "I can think of a few things I might need your help with, if you're still feeling nurturing."

"Oh yeah?" Hancock licked his lips. "Well, I'm willin' to do whatever it takes to make my girl feel good. You know that."

"You haven't failed me yet," she responded, sitting up to swing one leg over him, settling into his lap with happy sigh.

Hancock immediately felt better with her pressed against him. He wished he could hold her here forever, protect her from the Institute. He had wanted to fight, to stand between her and them, but she wouldn't thank him for that kind of nonsense. Instead, he settled for placing his hands on her hips, rocking up just a little rub against her.

"I don't intend to start now, doll."

Adriana shivered at the rasp in his voice, wrapping her arms around his neck as his head dipped down, tongue teasing her ear.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered into her ear, knowing how much she loved to hear him speak, as his hands slipped up under her shirt. He could feel goosebumps spread across her skin as he kissed her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth.

"All I want is for you to give me something to hold on to when I have to go back," she pled.

Her request made his heart ache and every second he wasn't inside her felt like a fucking mistake. His mouth found hers, the desperation in both of them making them reckless. Hancock stood up and spun around, sitting her on the edge of the bed. He broke the kiss only so he could hastily shed his clothing while she shimmied out of her own.

Adriana looked up, spreading her thighs to make room for him between them, smiling a the appreciative growl that left him at the sight of her. He stepped into her embrace again, all that delicious heat against her cool flesh, his hardness trapped between them. Somehow the reality of this moment, the right before, still took her breath away every time; his hands on her an impossibility that she didn't deserve, but would fight for always.

His kisses were rough and her passion met his in equal measure, hands on his sides, trying to pull him closer. He could feel her rocking her hips, so eager for him to be inside her, and was decided. He grabbed her legs, one in each arm, pulling her to the very edge, before taking himself in his fist and lining up with her entrance. She was so wet that the tip slid in easily and he shuddered, pausing for a moment. Adriana wasn't having any of that and, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulled him closer, taking more of him with a relieved sob.

"I missed you," she said, arms and legs holding him tightly to her. He got his hands up under her ass, lifting her up so that he could scoot her back and climb onto the bed with her.

"I missed you, too," he replied when he was once more settled between her thighs, looking down at her.

Her hands found the sides of his face, eyes locked, as he began to move, her hips rising to meet his with each thrust.

"Tell me you'll always find me."

"Always."

Supporting his weight on one hand, he used the other to reach between them, fondling her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He worked his way down to her hip, grabbing it firmly and holding her still so he could slam into her.

"John," Adriana whimpered his name, voice shaking from the impact. "Yes, baby. Please," she was so close. He could feel her tightening around him and he thrust forward, holding himself deep inside her as she came, fists coiled in the blankets. Her eyes were still open, but he knew she wasn't seeing him, lost as she was in the moment. She was so fucking beautiful, back arched, mouth open, chest heaving with each panting breath.

"Come for me, John."

"Don't worry, doll. I intend to," he smirked, adding, "soon."

He lowered himself down against her, just barely keeping his full weight off her, and kissed her. He didn't move, as much as he ached to. His tongue found hers and he breathed her in, the taste of her only heightening his pleasure.

One of his hands cupped the side of her face as he kissed her, just as he began to move again. This time he set a tempo that was slower, more methodical; entering her deeply, holding, and then slowly retreating. _He's going to drive me crazy._

He was driving her crazy and he knew it. She was so sensitive from her first orgasm and already quivering again as he held his rhythm, even as she tried to spur him on.

He was relentless, never losing time, and she could feel the crescendo growing again. Only then did he pick up the pace, pulling back enough that he could look down into her face.

When he came, body tensing as pumped into her, she arched up, the sensation of him filling her with his seed sending her over the edge again. They were both moaning each other's names as they pressed desperately closer, trying to make the moment last as long as possible.

Hancock collapsed into her waiting embrace and she held him close, legs intertwined as he nuzzled into her neck.

"Have I mentioned how much I love you?"

"Sunshine," he answered, chuckling deep in his chest, "if it's anything like what I feel, they don't make numbers big enough."

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"You sure she's not a synth, Deacon?" Glory asked him for the thousandth time. _Okay that's an exaggeration… but not much of one._

"Yes, my mini-gun toting friend. Yes. I am sure. Intel is kind of my thing, ya know? So why don't you just worry about doing your thing and leave that to me?"

"There's no one to shoot right now," she groused, scanning the perimeter.

"Never stays that way for long." Deacon turned back to Tinker Tom, body practically vibrating with the need to be back on the road. _I have to make it back before the Institute comes for her or we might lose her forever._ "Ya 'bout done there, Tommy boy?"

The only response he got was silence. Deacon was trying to be patient, but lately whenever he had moments of downtime he only thought about one thing. _One person and it's not the one you're busting your ass to save._ He inhaled through his nose, held it until his body began to protest, and then slowly released it. It didn't help. He was still thinking about her surprisingly small hand in his. _Fuck._

"Yes! Ok! All ready to go my man," Tom said, voice pitched with an exuberance that put toddlers to shame, bringing Deacon back to the present. "Just make sure you inject it somewhere no one's gonna look for it. Might leave a mark."

"This isn't going to end up like the last time she trusted you, is it?"

"Man, how come everyone's always sayin' that to me? It's fine. Now get back out there!"

Deacon had turned to leave when Tom cleared his throat. He paused, looking over his shoulder to see a sheepish look on the other man's face. Deacon's lips pressed into a hard line, eyebrows drawn together, as he stared, waiting for the other shoe.

"Just tell her it's the price of freedom, man."

Deacon shook his head and continued on out, throwing a hasty thanks back over his shoulder.

"Bye to you, too," Glory called.

"Later, killer," Deacon added, hurrying away in the direction of Goodneighbor. _Let her still be there._

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They didn't talk about the future. They didn't make plans or talk about their hopes. Maybe they were too afraid they would never come to pass, afraid of jinxing it; Adriana wasn't sure. They didn't talk about how scared they were anymore, either. The Institute had no place in their bed, no matter how largely their threat loomed.

What they did do was read Shakespeare, laughing naked in each other's arms at Hancock's dramatic voices. They cuddled. They talked about their friends, Hancock recounting in detail the events that happened leading up to her return and his suspicions regarding Deacon and Talitha. They worried about Charmer and RJ, whether or not they had reached the Capital Wasteland and found Duncan already. She knew that Charm had been concerned about Duncan accepting her, but Adriana was hopeful her fears were unfounded.

She filled him in on Father, how they had kept her in that sterile hell while she worried about the state of their relationship. How she had longed to scream, and sometimes cry, but had kept it all locked behind a vacant expression. He admitted to the week he had wasted, drunk and drugged, while he assumed the worst.

"Only a week? I'm impressed," she joked kindly, letting him off the hook. Hancock thought it was more than he deserved, but then again, so was she. _Best to not question these things._

Mostly, they just touched each other, looked at each other. They were both memorizing the tiny details. Hancock noticed a tiny freckle on the back of Adriana's right ear that he had never spared a thought for before. He almost mentioned it to her, thinking that she probably wasn't even aware of its existence herself, but then he stopped. It was probably silly, but he wanted to keep it for himself. It reminded him of those few beautiful moments when he had been the only person in the whole world to know her name.

Adriana looked over her shoulder to see Hancock smiling. It wasn't his usual smirk, it was something more gentle, sweet.

"What's got you smiling, handsome?" He started at little at the sound of her voice, smile transforming into a mischievous grin.

"You."

"Oh yeah? Well I'll bet I can make you do more than smile," she said, turning to throw a leg over his, straddling his naked lap. All it took was a few fluid rolls of her hips and she could feel him rising to the occasion.

"Of that I have no doubt," he replied before her lips crashed into his and there was no more talking for quite some time.

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Deacon ran into Goodneighbor not long before the appointed deadline, beelining it straight to the Old State House. When he arrived at the mayor's bedroom door, he knocked anxiously.

"Come in," Adriana called.

A relieved sigh rushed out of him at the sound of her voice as he opened the door. There she was, leaned over, pulling the laces of her boots tight before tying them into a tidy bow.

"Did your guy have anything?" Hancock asked nervously.

"Of course he did," Deacon answered before turning to Adriana. "Alright, Professor. Let's do this before any Gen 2's whisk you away again. We all know how bad their timing is."

Adriana tilted her head, clearly going for a look of disapproval. The only thing that ruined the effect was the way her mouth twitched at the corner. _She has the same fucked up sense of humor I do._ Hancock's glare was one hundred percent legitimate though. _He does not._

"How's it work and is it going to knock me on my ass like the last thing I received from him?" Adriana asked, sitting up straight.

"It's a tiny tracker that I'm going to insert under your skin. I mean, I imagine that's gonna smart. We just have to decide where. It's going to leave a mark that we don't want anyone investigating."

"Scalp. It's going to have to go in my hair line. I have enough hair to hide it now and if they feel it, I'll just tell them I got hit with a Super Mutant's bat and it left a permanent mark."

"Sounds like what I was thinking," Deacon said, pulling the syringe out of his pocket as she turned her head. "Alright. Here we go."

Deacon inserted the needle about two inches up from the bottom of her hair line on the left side of her head. He depressed the plunger, hearing Adriana take a deep breath.

"Yeah, that doesn't feel good, but it also doesn't feel like death either. Last time felt like death."

"Should I be worried?" Hancock interjected.

"I survived, didn't I?" She answered.

Deacon ran his finger over the newly deposited transmitter and decided that if he didn't know for sure what he was feeling, it could pass as an old injury. Satisfied, he stepped back.

"Well, let's just hope that trend holds, my dear."

"She's going to be just fine," Deacon stated, more for himself than for either of them.

"Thanks to you," Adriana said matter-of-factly.

"What are partners for?" He held his arms open and she stepped into his embrace, squeezing him tightly.

"What's all this I hear about Talitha getting to see those eyes of yours? I'm feeling a little left out," she complained, looking up at him.

"Hey, that's only cause your man smashed my glasses. You can lodge all your complaints with him."

"How about you show me when I get back?" She suggested, smiling innocently.

"Why don't we just cross that particular bridge when we get there."

"Oh, no. It's happening."

"Whatever you say, Professor."

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Adriana stepped out of Deacon's embrace and made her way into Hancock's arms. They had already said their goodbyes and now there was nothing left to do but wait. She was trying her best not to shake, but she knew Hancock could feel her trembling against him by the way he tightened his hold on her.

"I'll see you again soon, love. I promise," he whispered into her ear and she turned her head to kiss his cheek.

"Soon."

The room filled with a flash of blinding light and then there was a new person in the room.

"Hello, ma'am. My designation is X6-88. I've been tasked with returning you to the Institute," the Courser said. There was no doubt in her mind that he was anything less. Everything about him was dark: his skin, his clothes, his glasses. His voice was flat, words spoken with little to no inflection.

Adriana turned in Hancock's arms and kissed him once, hands on each side of his face, and then she made herself step back. It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. She looked around for Deacon, but he must have already slipped out. _Probably not a great idea for him to be in the same room as a Courser for long anyway._

"Hold onto my arm please, ma'am," X6-88 requested.

She complied, heart racing wildly with fear, eyes locked on Hancock's the whole time.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

The world dissolved in a stomach twisting lurch and when the light faded she was staring into eyes so very like her own instead of Hancock's.

"Glad to see you decided to keep your end of the bargain," Father said, frostily.

"Like I had a choice."

"Oh, there are always choices," he countered. "Not that it matters now. Well, let's not waste anytime now, shall we?"

Father walked past her, coming to stand next to a chair that had been clearly fitted with restraints. He motioned for her to sit, but her feet refused to move as her stomach roiled nervously. She had never been more terrified in her life. _I can't just sit down in that chair. I can't just walk willingly to what might be my death._ Panic was rising up within her, but instead of tamping it down or focusing it, like she usually did, she let it out.

X6-88 was standing directly behind her and was the most immediate threat. She slammed her foot down on top of his, distracting him while she reached for her blade. She turned, stabbing the Courser in his side in one fluid motion. She pulled back, deflecting his fist with her left forearm as Father shouted for backup. X6 stepped back, assessing her, calculating, as people poured into the room.

"Don't shoot her!" Father commanded as they converged on her.

She lashed out with her knife at anyone that dared to come close, but there were too many of them and it was only a matter of moments before she was restrained by several vice-like grips. They pulled her back toward the chair while she screamed profanities, cursing them, cursing the man that claimed to be her son. He watched, face an expressionless mask as they strapped her into the chair at each extremity, her hips and her head.

"Don't worry, I'll see you soon," he said, leaning over her, "Mother."

Adriana spit in his face.

"I hope she hates you as much as I do."

She felt a needle press into the side of her neck and then everything started to swirl. She could feel herself slipping away, which was the most terrifying part of all.

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"I think she's waking up," a voice above her said.

"Do you think it worked?" Another whispered.

Nora held her face as relaxed as possible, trying to buy her a few moments to figure out where she was. The last thing she remembered was… _Oh god! Nate! They took Shaun!_ She took a quick inventory, coming to the conclusion that she had been handled roughly, and not long ago. _They must have come back for me, too._

Trying to prepare herself for anything, Nora opened her eyes. Once adjusted to the bright light, they focused on a man in a white lab coat. At first glance, he didn't look familiar, but the more she stared, the more she wasn't sure. He reminded her strongly of Nate, if Nate had had her eyes…

When the man before her finally spoke, she realized nothing she could have done could have ever prepared her for what he said.

"Hello, Mother. You have no idea how long I've waited to meet you."


	25. A Bolt of Lightning

" _Hello, Mother."_

His words echoed in her head. She leaned her forehead against the cold tiles of the shower, the crashing of the warm water doing nothing to block out the words that haunted her. _How can he look so much like us, but act so completely different?_ Nate had always been a hot head, quick to run into trouble. His rashness was one of the reasons she had been his commanding officer and not the other way around. _Nate… you couldn't have done anything different, but damn it. What a fucking mess._

She hated that the last memory she had of him was him collapsing, bloody bullet hole in the side of his head. _Of all the things to not remember, why is that particular image hanging around?_ Her hands slid up her body, coming to rest around her neck. When she had first seen her reflection, she had been shocked. Shaun had been very vague in his explanation, but she assumed he was only trying to protect her. _My son, who is now older than me, is trying to protect me from a past I don't remember. Could my life be any more fucked up?_

She didn't often cry, as one of the very few women that held a high ranking position in the Army, she had never been able to afford the luxury. _Maybe Shaun gets his coldness, from me..._ The thought horrified her. Nate had always balanced her and with him gone, what would she become?

She already had an idea of what Shaun expected of her. He knew that she had military training, but not the extent of it. Once he saw what she could do, there was no doubt that he would want to utilize her for his needs. He had already explained some of what the Institute's goals were and she agreed that building a better future was of the utmost importance. If the world above really was the mess that he described, then she couldn't even argue. Besides, she had already lost so much. She could never get back Nate or the years of Shaun's life she had missed, hell, she couldn't even get back the months of her own life she had missed.

 _I won't lose Shaun. I'll be who he needs me to be. I can't fail him again._

Nora reached over and turned off the water. She felt better for having chosen a path. She stepped out of the shower and toweled off, pausing a moment to glance in the mirror. _How could knowing what happened change anything anyway?_ She lifted her chin, running a single finger down her damaged throat. Just for a second she thought she felt warm breath tickling her ear, the ghost of a touch long forgotten. _It wouldn't change a thing,_ she told herself, pointedly turning away from the mirror.

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Deacon hadn't thought about what he was doing, he had just acted. As soon as the courser showed up, he slipped out of the room, down the stairs, and just kept walking. He didn't stop until he reached Sanctuary. He wasn't sure if she would be in the room he had brought her to, his room, or at least the one he thought of as his here in the land of people caught in Adriana's magnetic pull. Somehow he had himself convinced that if she, it was some kind of sign. _Yeah, a sign she's still recovering._ He opened the door to the common house and slipped inside.

Nick was lounging on the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table, flipping through some papers inside a manilla folder. At Deacon's entrance, he closed the folder and sat up, getting his feet under him.

"Well, what happened? I talked to Sturges, but he didn't exactly have a ton of information for me."

"We did what we could. Now it's just a matter of waiting to see if it all works," Deacon responded evenly, trying not to let the worry creep into his voice. _This is the shit you're good at, making a plan and executing it. It's all the messy feelings shit you have trouble with. Thwarting the Institute? That's your jam. You might as well put that shit on replay._

"Ah, everyone's favorite. Waiting." Nick sat back down, resting one ankle on the opposite knee. "If that changes, you'll let me know?"

"When the next part of the plan kicks in, be expecting my call. We're gonna need all boots on the ground," Deacon agreed.

Nick responded with an ironic little salute before returning to his folder of papers.

Deacon turned and made his way up the stairs, turning to the left and staring at the first door he came to. He took a deep breath, resting one hand on the rough wood of the door. He wasn't

sure which prospect made him more nervous, her being on the other side or not.

He turned the knob quietly, stepped inside, and then closed the door softly behind him, leaning back against it.

"Deacon? Tell me that's you," her voice rang out in the dark, filling him with equal parts joy and terror. He swallowed, heart beating louder than a drum. He wanted to punch his past self. How he'd had himself convinced he was in love with Adriana, he'd never understand. Kissing her hadn't made his heart race the way just hearing his name in Talitha's mouth did.

"Yeah, it's me." He took a few steps forward before pausing, unsure of how to proceed.

"You must be tired. Come lay down and you can tell me what happened in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." _Wow. Could you maybe say something other than yeah?_

Deacon could hear her shifting over, pulling the blankets back so he could get in beside her. He walked around, perching on the left side of the bed so he could take his shoes off. Talitha moved towards him, resting her hand between his shoulder blades. It was strange, because for once, his instinct wasn't to pull away. He leaned into her touch, just a little.

"I'm glad you're back," she whispered.

"Me, too."

He turned to face her pulling the blankets up over them. Before she turned away, she reached over and plucked his glasses from his face. He heard her place them on the nightstand before scooting back into him. He sighed as she relaxed into his chest.

"Goodnight, Deacon."

"Goodnight, Talitha."

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In the morning, Talitha wasn't sure what about the situation surprised her more, him showing up at all or him still being there when she woke up. Deacon was acting so contrary to everything she had observed about him. _What changed?_ She sat up, reluctantly leaving the warmth of his embrace in order to look down at his sleeping face. She'd had some time to think about things while he was gone and now that he was here, there was no ignoring it. She definitely felt… something. What it was yet, she couldn't be certain, but the way her body reacted to his presence made it clear that, if nothing else, they had undeniable chemistry.

"Do you always stare at people while they're sleeping?" His voice didn't even sound as though he'd been sleeping. _How long has he been awake?_

"Do you always pretend to be sleeping long after you actually wake up?"

A slow smile spread across his face before he opened his eyes. _Damn, I thought I had imagined how intense they were._ She could feel her pulse pick up the tempo as her eyes met his.

"How are you feeling," he asked, propping his head up on one hand. The other hand crept out to occupy the space between them, a silent invitation, easy accepted or rejected. She didn't hesitate to place her hand over his, trying not to smile at his slight intake of breath as their skin touched. _Okay, well that answers that. He feels it, too._

"I'm much better," she answered. His eyebrows drew together, clearly concerned that she was downplaying, and she laughed. "Honest! How about you?"

"Physically, fine. For now," he added with a laugh. "If my plan to save Adriana doesn't pan out, I'm sure Hancock has plans to rectify that."

"Let's hear this plan then. See if I should be stocking up on Stimpaks or not."

Deacon smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that was far too endearing. _What the fuck have I gotten myself into?_ Even as she thought it, her hand tightened around his, smiling at the sound of his voice.

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Training went much as she expected. It was immediately clear what kind of asset she was and they were soon taking instruction from her instead of the other way around. When she wasn't training or explaining tactical nuances that were apparently news to them, _no wonder they haven't been making the kind of progress they hoped for,_ she spent her time with Shaun. He mostly talked about the Institute and their plans. He also spent a lot of time describing what remained of humanity, if you could call it that. _They sound no better than animals._

In her heart of hearts, she knew that Shaun's view was biased at best, maybe he was exaggerating or, at worst, straight out lying. She stuffed down those feelings though, ignoring them, explaining them away. _He's my son. Why shouldn't I trust him?_ She tried not to think about why he wasn't the one to retrieve her from the Vault. She knew she should ask, but when one is building a house of cards was it really wise to stir things up?

Every day the ache of Nate's loss weighed heavier and heavier on her. Without a real task, something to focus on besides mundane training exercises, she was sure she'd go crazy. It had been week after week of the same routine and the monotony was making her more than a little loony. Sometimes, when she was alone in her room, she'd think she heard a raspy chuckle or feel rough hands on her hips. She began to worry that Shaun hadn't discovered all the effects of the cryo-pod. The voice she was hearing wasn't Nate's, which somehow made her feel guilty. If she was going to be hallucinating a man's voice, shouldn't it be his?

When Shaun finally told her he had a mission for her, she almost cried with relief. An opportunity to do what she did best? A chance to lose herself in the thrill of the hunt?

"Just tell me what you need done," she answered eagerly.

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Hancock sat with his feet propped up on his desk, only half listening to Fahrenheit's report. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stay focused on anything. Hell, he was barely even getting high anymore. Nothing held the same allure anymore.

"Fuck!" He looked around wildly, heart racing from the kick to his chair that had pushed it back, making his legs fall from their perch with a thud.

"John, if you're not even gonna listen, you might as well go follow Deacon around, waiting for the tracker to do its thing. You're no help to Goodneighbor like this. Hell, I think this is worse than the bender you went on last time. At least that had entertainment value. This is just… sad." Fahrenheit looked down at him, arms crossed, mouth curled up in disgust.

"God damn. Your sympathy is fuckin' overwhelming. What would I do without ya?" He stood up, meeting her glare for glare.

"Sorry, but shit happens. People go missing, they die, bad things happen. Every. Fucking. Day. People are gonna say you've gotten soft and you know what happens to leaders that go soft."

"Is that some kinda threat, Fahr?"

"No. It's me lookin' out for ya, even when you won't. Get outta here. Go to Sanctuary. Follow Deacon around until you find her, if that's what you need to do. If ya stay here, staring off into space like some kinda love sick fool, someone's gonna get ideas. I got too much shit to do to save your ass from a coup."

Hancock stared at her, wishing all the steam wasn't seeping out of his sails. _I hate it when she's right. She's always such a bitch about it._

"I'm gonna go pack," he said, turning to leave. He pretended not to hear her chuckling as he exited the room.

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The weeks waiting for Adriana's tracker to go off were a study in contrast. Deacon was worried he had fucked up, so many things could have gone wrong, but on the other hand he was stupid happy. His happiness then added to his guilt, which was much more in keeping with his usual self-loathing and somehow made him more comfortable with his and Talitha's growing friendship. _Friendship, because that's all it is. Obviously. You two aren't dancing around anything deeper than that? Why would you be? You never keep yourself from good things, just on principle. That would be ridiculous._

The two of them had fallen into an easy rhythm and a closeness that he had never had with anyone, even Adriana. _Hell, not even with Barbara._ Talitha was very easy to talk to. She was the kind of person that always seemed to know when to encourage and when to listen. She called him on his shit, but never in a way that made him feel judged and he soon found little bits of his story leaving his mouth without his permission. _Since when can't you control the flow of intel, Rookie?_ Talitha offered up her own history in equal measure, though. For every tiny detail he shared, she offered him a counterpart from her own. Somehow, the piece by piece fair trade system they had worked for him in a way that didn't leave him feeling completely vulnerable.

Talitha spent most of her evenings working down in Vault 111. Every bar needed a pretty face and hers was a fixture there. When he got done with whatever task Sturges had him working on during the day, he'd wash up and be ready to walk her to her shift. He didn't care how busy he was, even if he had to come right back to finish up a chore, he always walked with her. Talitha joked that it was unnecessary, but he also noticed what she didn't say. How she waited for him, tense shoulders relaxing at the sight of him. The almost too tight way she held his hand. She would never admit to being afraid, but he didn't need her to.

Some nights Deacon would eat dinner at 111, tucked away at the end of the bar or an out of the way table. The rush he got from her stopping by just to run her hand over his shoulders or press a kiss into his cheek was more satisfying than pulling the slip on the Institutes lackey's. _In all fairness, I have been doing that for a hell of a long time._ The nights he didn't join her, he still made sure to show up before the end of her shift so he could walk he back into town. The smile she always greeted him was nothing short of addictive.

Talitha and he always spent the night together taking turns being the little spoon.

"I'm just saying, I don't think it's fair that since I'm the dude, I am forever doomed to life as the big spoon," Deacon joked one night as Talitha flopped over to cuddle up to him. "That's sexism and I won't stand for it."

Talitha laughed loudly, turning to face him.

"All you had to do was ask baby," she purred, one hand cupping his cheek while the other trailed down his side.

Deacon shivered at her touch, the lower tone to her voice doing things to him he'd never expected. Her face was so close to his in the dark and he knew it wouldn't take much to close the distance. He licked his bottom lip in anticipation, his hand finding her chin and nudging it closer. In the weeks that they had spent together, they had never officially crossed the friend line. They flirted, spent much of their time together and even slept in the same bed, but they had never done more than hold hands. Deacon knew, to an extent, what she had lived through and wasn't in any hurry. If she turned away from his kiss her knew it was more a reflection on her past than on him, but she didn't turn away.

Talitha closed the last little space between them, pressing her lips to his. If her hand touching his was electric, then her lips on his was like a bolt of lightning. She took his breath away. He wanted to pull her closer, but settled for cupping the back of her head, his fingers running through her soft, short hair. He followed her lead, returning only what he was given, but damn if he wasn't beginning to realize there would never be enough of her for him.

He felt her smile against his lips, her laughter bubbling up against his mouth.

"Something funny?" His voice was a rough whisper, sounding strange to his own ears in the aftermath.

"Sorry, I'm just so happy. I wasn't laughing at you." She pressed her forehead to his, "Is that weird?"

"Maybe, but I'm not complaining, doll. As long as you're happy, you can laugh at me all you want."

"But I wasn't-"

"Shhh," he said against her lips. "I know."

This time he kissed her. He took his time, making certain of a thorough job, before they parted, both of them trembling.

"Well I guess that answers that," she said, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"I guess it does."

He turned on his side, wiggling his ass in her direction and delighting in the cheerful laughter that ensued. She wrapped him in her arms, placing a single kiss into the nape of his neck.

"Goodnight, Deacon."

"Goodnight, Talitha."

Deacon was very relieved that he was the little spoon that night.

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Join me on Tumblr! panicatthethirdrail


	26. Seeing is Believing

The first time Adriana's tracker went off, Deacon nearly cried in relief. The transmitter he always kept in his back pocket beeped and he dropped the pile of scrap he was carrying, forgetting in an instant that he was supposed to be delivering it to Sturges over at the new generator the handyman was constructing.

"Hancock!" Deacon started running back in the direction he had come from, yelling the ghoul's name.

It didn't take long for him to appear, popping up between houses from where he had been at work in the garden. Hancock came to a halt in front of Deacon, eyes wide with hope under his hat. Before Deacon could respond, the transmitter beeped again and Hancock, sweaty, shirtless, and smeared with dirt, wrapped the spy in an exuberant hug.

"She's alive," the mayor whispered under his breath, like he couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, but by the space between beeps, I'd say she's pretty far away. Who knows how long she'll be out of the Institute. We better get a move on."

Hancock disappeared into the house, presumably to get dressed and grab his shotgun, while Deacon took a moment to revel in this small victory.

 _It's working. Holy fucking hell, my plan is actually working._ It wasn't like he hadn't spearheaded several successful plans in the past, but this one was so hastily thrown together and had too many variables. There were just so many things that could go wrong.

Deacon turned, planning to find Talitha and say goodbye, when she appeared in the doorway. She had a 10mm holstered on her thigh, aviators perched on the bridge of her nose, and a messenger bag slung across her body. Deacon smiled.

"All ready to go, I see."

"I even packed an extra pair of sunglass just for you," she said patting her bag with a smile.

"You're so good to me," he responded, reaching a hand out for hers.

"And don't you forget it."

 _How could I?_ He used his free hand to pat his pockets, verifying the presence of extra ammo for the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans and that his smokes and lighter were in their customary home.

"Let's get this freak show on the road, shall we?"

Hancock appeared in the doorway after Talitha had stepped down, looking between the two of them. He nodded, motioning Deacon to take the lead.

"Now remember, Hancock, we may or may not find her the first time out. Who knows how far away she is," Deacon cautioned.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You've said all this shit before. I get it."

 _Then how come I get the feeling that you still aren't hearing me?_

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Hancock didn't give a shit what Deacon said, he was getting Adriana back and he was doing it today. _Nothing's gonna stop me._

So they headed out of Sanctuary, the sound of their footsteps accompanied only by the slow beep of the tracker under the brightly shining sun. They passed Concord in short order, continuing on quickly. Hancock wasn't sure if the beeping was actually increasing by infinitesimal bits, or if he was just imagining it. _She could be anywhere._

The realization began to sink in, his heart pounding while he tried to push the doubt away. To make matters worse, there was a sudden rumble of thunder as ominous clouds rolled in at an alarming rate.

"God damn it!" Hancock threw his arms up in the air, wishing he had something to hit instead.

"Come on, there's an old cabin just off the road a ways. If we hurry we'll make it before the storm arrives." Deacon was holding Talitha's hand, pulling her forward, but he stopped when he realized Hancock wasn't following.

"Hey, pal. I know you're on pretty good terms with radiation, but Talitha and I are no more than nodding acquaintances with it and would like to keep it that way. Let's move."

"Give me the tracker, Deacon." Hancock's voice was pitched low, almost threateningly so.

"Look, I want to find her, too, and we will! Just not today," Deacon moved in closer to him, glancing up at the quickly approaching storm clouds, and placed a hand on the mayor's arm.

"That's easy for you to say," he growled. "Now give me the fucking tracker!" Hancock knocked the other man's hand away, turning on him angrily.

"You think this is easy for me?" Deacon's arms fell to his sides, his mouth, for once, searching for words he couldn't find.

"It's a helluva lot easier for you than for me!"

Deacon laughed, the bitter sound of it rattling around in Hancock's head.

"How do you figure?" Hancock opened his mouth to reply but Deacon cut him off, "and don't you dare say, 'because we're in love.'"

"Why the fuck not? It's true!" Hancock sneered, looking up from under his hat with a hateful glint in his dark eyes. "What? Still jealous she chose a ghoul over you? Is that it?"

Deacon threw his arms up in the air in exasperation.

"Would you listen to yourself? This is lunacy. Did you get a bad batch of Jet? Or did all that junk finally rot what's left of your brain?"

Hancock stopped in this tracks. He knew he was being crazy, but he couldn't seem to calm down. _You need to get your shit together. This sure as fuck's not helping Adriana._

"You can't just waltz into an area full of synths alone to rescue someone who doesn't even remember you! Your charm and swagger, what little you have left that is, aren't going to save you from getting a laser pistol to the face. Hell, Nora herself might be the one to pull the trigger. I'd really like to avoid the whole tragic romance, Romeo and Juliet thing, if ya don't mind. Your voice is the key, remember?" Deacon paused, knowing that he finally had Hancock thinking, before driving his point home. "If you die before you can say the right words, Adriana dies with you. You really want her blood on your hands?"

By this point, the wind was so loud that Deacon had to yell the last of it, but maybe that only drove the point home harder.

"If the two of you are finished arguing, I think we should start running," Talitha interjected, looking worriedly from them to the sky. _I can't be responsible for anything else happening to her,_ Hancock though in disgust. With a nod, Deacon turned on his heel and took off, clasping hands with Talitha while he used his other to point out the general direction of the aforementioned cabin.

Hancock followed behind them at an amble. He'd agreed not to run off after Adriana alone, but that didn't mean he had to hide in the cabin with them. _Hell, maybe a little radiation will perk me up._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 _I don't care if this is a pity mission, it sure is good to be boots on the ground again._ She, X6, and a handful of Gen 2's had been tasked with a fairly straight forward job; clear the Wilson Atomatoys Factory of any hostiles, check for usable salvage, and then report back. If the location hadn't been completely picked over already, Shaun would then send up more Gen 2's to strip the location of anything valuable.

Nora had been briefed on the state of the surface and the creatures she was most likely to encounter. She thought she had been prepared, but her first glimpse of the surface in over two hundred years almost brought her to her knees. _It really happened._ There was something about living underground that had left her feeling detached from the reality of the bombs. _I guess seeing really is believing._

Nora tried to keep a neutral expression, but must have failed.

"Everything alright, Ma'am?" X6 asked, head tilted slightly.

"Perfectly. Let's get to work."

Raising her laser rifle to her shoulder, she started forward, jerking her head in indication that the synths should follow. _Just focus on the job._ It was about then that she caught her first glimpse of a Super Mutant. The pictures hadn't done them justice. _They're even uglier in person. Maybe Shaun's right…_

Dropping to a crouch, she signaled the Gen 2's to circle around the building while she and X6 went at them head on. After so long without anything to do, she was itching for a fight.

"I know you're out there!"

Nora stiffened at the sound, pausing to watch. She clearly saw the moment that the abomination's eyes landed on her.

"There you are!" The beast growled, shouting to his friends and running in her direction. She waited until he was in range and then pulled the trigger of her rifle three times, in quick succession.

"Ouch," it cried, holding a hand to it's oversized forehead. "I'll make you pay!"

Nora kept shooting, the massive thing finally falling over dead with a ground shaking thud mere yards from her location. She looked up to see several of his buddies thundering out of the building's door and reached for grenade. She pulled the pin with her teeth, sending it flying towards her enemies in a graceful arc. She smiled as the grenade exploded, several of the mutants screaming in pain. _It's nice to be back._

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Arlen Glass watched from afar, hidden behind a tree, as the Super Mutants poured out of the building to fight back the intruders. He smiled as they began to fall, unable to believe that he was finally on the receiving end of some good fortune. He had finally gotten up the nerve to travel all this way in search of the parts he needed, only to find the factory swarming with Mutants. He had been intending to just turn around, maybe find someone crazy enough to risk their hide for a bag of caps, but then there had been a flash of blue light. He had crouched down to avoid detection, only to see a handful of synths appear out of nowhere.

Now all he had to do was wait and see who won. Hopefully once the victor cleared out, he could run in and grab what he needed, no fighting necessary. He settled in for the wait, but by the look of things, the Mutants wouldn't last much longer. _And good riddance,_ he thought smugly.

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Talitha and Deacon made it to the cabin mere moments before the storm erupted all around them. No sooner had the door slammed shut behind them, Deacon leaning against it and panting theatrically, then the storm broke with a crack of thunder loud enough to shake the whole cabin.

"Talk about cutting it close," Deacon mumbled, looking over at her through his glasses.

Talitha had gotten decent at picking up what few clues Deacon's body betrayed him with and right now his shoulders were just the slightest bit tense. It was hard to tell, he still managed to hold his arms loosely, the few steps he took toward her seemingly casual. Deacon liked to think he never lied to her, but in actuality, he did all the time. For every time she picked up on a cue that something was amiss, she knew there were ten more times that she didn't. It wasn't his fault though; she didn't blame him. His secrets were his life, his ability to keep them his best weapon.

If she had to guess the reason behind his worry, she would have to say it was Hancock's accusation regarding Adriana. The two of them had never spoken about what had, or hadn't, happened between the two. In all honesty, she didn't really feel like it was any of her business unless he wanted to talk to her about it. _How Deacon feels about Adriana doesn't really make a difference in how he feels about me, so it's not like it's any of my business._ Deacon would talk to her about it if and when he was ready. The only problem with not talking, was that Deacon had no idea that she didn't subscribe to normal views on love and relationships. He had no way of knowing that she wouldn't be mad or jealous if he had feelings for someone else.

Not knowing what to do, she ignored the little signs of his worry, letting one more lie slip past unacknowledged.

"Do you think Hancock's going to be okay?" She asked instead, reaching out for him with both hands. He smiled, stepping into her embrace and wrapping one arm around her waist while his other hand cradled the back of her head, tucking it under his chin.

"He's going to have to be," Deacon answered, holding her even more tightly. "He has to get it together if we have any hope of getting Adriana back."

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Deacon had, luckily, already cleared this particular cabin of its previous feral inhabitant and no others had cropped up in his place, so they were able to wait out the storm in relative peace. Well, what peace could be found while the storm rattled the very foundation of the cabin and Hancock was outside, pacing and and screaming into the storm like a man possessed. The two of them tried their best to ignore it, with varying degrees of success. He got it, the whole situation was maddening. _I've just never been a scream-into-the-eye-of-the-storm kind of guy. I'm more of a tiptoe-straight-past-it kind of guy._ He looked over at Talitha using his peripherals, _I'm also an ostrich kind of guy,_ he thought with a sigh. _I really have to quit putting my head in the sand and just talk to her. She heard what Hancock said and we both know it._

He really didn't want to admit what a cad he was though. He was embarrassed. He had kissed another guy's girl and the chain of events he had started led to Talitha getting beat with a baseball bat. If he started that conversation, that was its inevitable conclusion. He sighed. He wasn't sure which was worse, the truth or what Talitha must be thinking without any explanation.

"We don't have to talk about it yet," Talitha's voice interrupted his confused thoughts. "You know that, right?"

"I just don't want you to think less of me."

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Talitha didn't know what to make of that. She stepped forward, plucking his glasses from his face and then hanging them from the collar of his shirt.

"Everyone makes mistakes, D."

"Well, I've made some real doozies in my day," he answered with a self deprecating smirk.

Talitha stepped in close, raising up onto the balls of her feet in order to place a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Tell me when you're ready. I can wait."

What was it about guys, in her experience at least, that they just had to do the opposite of whatever you said? Apparently Deacon was no exception. He began where most stories do, at the beginning, only this particular story started way before she had ever expected.

"I had gotten a report of strange activity around Vault 111…"

Talitha listened, mouth sealed, as Deacon told her, well, everything.

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The Super Mutants, while terrifying and strong, were clearly lacking in the intelligence department. _Sure, run at me from across the room waving a nail bat. This is a gun fight, you idiot._ Nora looked down at one of the lifeless bodies littering the floor of the old toy factory in disgust. _Death is the kindest gift I could give you._

She and X6 swept the place quickly, all the Gen 2's they had brought with them having died at the hands of the mutants.

"I think it's safe to say there is plenty of useful salvage here. Why don't you head back and inform Father of what's here so he can send the team in to collect it all. I'll stay here and keep watch."

"Are you sure that's wise, Ma'am?"

"I think I'm more than capable," she responded icily.

"Undeniably. I shall return shortly."

X6 disappeared, leaving her truly alone for the first time since she had awoken in the sterile confines of the Institute. She hadn't been particularly fond of the atmosphere there, but she was starting to see the allure as she looked around the surface. _This place is disgusting._ She wrinkled her nose, backing away from what looked to be a bag full of miscellaneous body parts. Human body parts.

It was then that she heard soft, hesitant footfalls coming from the direction of the door. She stepped back into the shadows, laser rifle at the ready, and watched as someone crept into the room, looking around cautiously.

 _No, not someone. Something._ Whatever it was, it appeared to have at one time been human. _This must be a Ghoul_. She had been warned about them, how they were feral things, minds rotted by all the radiation up here on the surface. Looking at it made her hand itch to reach into her pocket for another dose of Rad-X. Every inch of it that she could see was covered in scars and there was nothing remaining of its nose but a hole. She shuddered. She wasn't sure which was worse, the Super Mutants or the Ghouls.

She stepped forward, firing once, watching as the laser singed the fabric of its shirt. The creature stared down at it's arm in shock before holding both arms in the air.

"Please! I'm just here looking for some spare parts!"

 _It can talk?!_ No one had told her that some of them spoke. She fired again.

"I don't want to hurt you. I'm just looking for some old Giddyup Buttercup parts," the thing pleaded.

"What could you possibly need those for?" Nora stepped forward into a shaft of light streaming in through a broken window.

"It's for a project I've left unfinished for far too long," it responded, lowering its hands.

Nora wasn't about to be fooled into lowering her weapon. She had been told how fast these things could move, that they ate human flesh. She didn't care if it could talk, she was not about to fail Shaun. _Not again anyway._

She squeezed the trigger until it finally quit moving.

After she was sure it was dead, she crept over and dug through his pockets. She found an old ID card for an Arlen Glass in his pocket. Arlen had been an employee at Atomatoys, apparently. _Is this Arlen? Had he been telling the truth?_

She stood up, throwing the card back down onto the Ghoul's body. _He was a monster. You did the right thing._ She shoved down the part of her that thought otherwise, locking away her doubts. _I did what Shaun would have wanted. How could that be wrong?_


	27. Best Laid Plans

By the time the storm had passed, the beeping had long since stopped and Hancock had, apparently, yelled himself out for the time being. No one talked on the way back to Sanctuary, but Deacon and Talitha shared more than a few reassuring glances and caresses.

Apparently Nora had proven herself in whatever task the Institute had set her, because after that day the tracker went off every other day, at least. Deacon wasn't sure which was worse, not hearing anything at all, or running after her and never catching her. She would pop up for an hour or two, sending the three of them running off from whatever tasks they were assigned, only to end up slouching back into Sanctuary with nothing to show for their time. They never seemed to get any closer; it was demoralizing. It was also physically and emotionally draining.

After a couple weeks of chasing air, Preston ambled back into town, a handful of Minutemen in tow. The General found Sturges first, embracing him and saying hello with a passionate kiss. They exchanged some whispered words, both smiling, before Preston reluctantly stepped back and looked around, eyes falling on Deacon. _Oh shit._ The look on his face changed, falling carefully blank, well, what Preston probably thought was blank. _But to an eye as trained as mine… Not so much, bucko. Mouth tense, eyes looking everywhere but mine and that walk, well, it's uptight even for him. This doesn't bode well._

"Hey, man. You know where we can find Hancock. I'd rather do this all at once," Preston said, voice pitched low.

"Hancock!" Deacon bellowed the ghoul's name without even turning away from the General. To his credit, the other man didn't jump, but his wince was almost as rewarding.

"Well I coulda done that…" Preston muttered under his breath.

It didn't take long for Hancock to come hurrying from between the buildings, putting his arms through the sleeves of his iconic frock as he did.

He looked from Deacon to Preston and back again. Deacon raised his shoulders a hair in answer. _I don't know what he wants either._

"Good to see ya back in town, General."

"You might not feel that way once I tell you why I'm here," Preston responded to Hancock's greeting, reluctantly meeting the mayor's eyes.

"Well, that's some foreboding shit. Let's hear it then," Hancock said, affecting a deceptively casual stance. _That's much more convincing. Take note, General._

"As you know, I've been rebuilding the Minutemen. Hell, even managed to reclaim the Castle. It was a hell of fight, but we came out on top." Preston paused, smiling to himself. He was obviously proud, but Deacon had a feeling it wasn't for himself, it was was for the men and women that had thrown their lot in with his to make the Commonwealth a safer place. _Let's get to the point now, shall we?_ "With the Castle back in our control, we've also got Radio Freedom up and running."

"And?" Hancock prompted while Deacon watched with arms crossed, eyes darting between the two of them from behind the safety of his shades.

"Well, as word spreads about the station, reports have started to trickle in from the settlements that we've been establishing," Preston explained, somehow still not getting to the point as he managed to look everywhere but Hancock's face.

"Sounds useful, but I don't see-"

"Reports about the Institute," he interrupted, the words exploding out of him. He looked up from under the large brim of his hat, "Reports about… her."

 _Ah. That can't be good._

"Well, that's good though, right? At least we know that she's alive and the tracker going off ain't just some kinda glitch," Hancock said, his voice painfully hopeful as he looked between the two of them for reassurance.

"She's alive alright, but it's not her I'm worried about."

 _Why am I surprised? If the Institute is letting her out, it's because they are sure of her loyalty. Her skills in the hands of those monsters?_ Deacon shuddered.

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"What's that s'posed to mean, Garvey?" Hancock asked, unconsciously puffing his chest out in anger.

"Exactly what it sounds like. Nora, well, she's obviously bought whatever line of bullshit the Institute spoonfed her. I know Adriana was-"

"Is. Adriana is. She's not dead," Hancock growled. _Take a deep breath._ He was disgusted with himself if he was being honest. He had been going off the deep end over every little Adriana related event and it had to stop. _It's ain't healthy, besides you'll be more use with a clear head._

"That's what you've said," Preston responded, his tone of voice clearly implying that he wasn't buying.

"Why don't you just tell us what you came to say," Deacon interjected calmly.

Hancock glanced over at him thankfully, taking a deep breath. He reached into his pocket for his tin of Mentats, using the familiar routine to calm himself.

"The things the Institute has Nora doing for them are-"

"You mean, they don't have her training puppies and teaching a crochet class?" Deacon interjected as Hancock focused on the chalky taste of the Mentats dissolving in his mouth. _Should I be worried that the spy is growing on me?_ "Of course she's doing bad things. She's been in their clutches since she woke up. Who know's what line of shit they've sold her."

"She's killing ghouls!"

In the heartbeats following Preston's outburst, everyone froze. Until they both turned to look at him, at that is.

"Of course she is," Hancock answered in his best approximation of nonchalance. "The Institute probably told her we're all feral. This is all new to her and she's probably scared."

His heart felt very differently. The words echoed around his head, each time sounding more hollow than the last.

 _How am I ever going to get close enough to save Adriana?_

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Nora's unsatisfactory behavior wasn't the only problem Garvey was getting out of the Institute, unfortunately. Apparently they had shown up in more than one settlement, trying to scrap whole plots for anything useful they could get their hands on. Preston was being run ragged trying to fend them off his hard won network of settlements. Luckily they had managed so far, the synths turning to abandoned buildings or easier pray for their salvage, but it was only a matter of time. The General was clearly worried he was up against a bully he couldn't best. Deacon thanked Preston for the intel, patting him on the shoulder, and the ushered Hancock off to the common house that was feeling rather empty these days.

"You alright, pal?" Deacon's voice was pitched low, even though the door was closed and no one was around to overhear.

"Just thinking that maybe we picked the wrong man," he laughed bitterly, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I mean ghoul."

"Aww, come on, man," Deacon said, shifting his weight in discomfort.

"Seriously. What the hell were we thinking? This ain't some kinda fuckin' fairy tale. Sure, me being the one to bring her back has some serious romantic flair to it, but this shit was too important to be anything other than practical! We should have made the god damn spy in charge of the trigger. The human spy. The one guy I know that could get close to her, even if she's surrounded by synths."

"As flattered as I am by your estimation of my admittedly impressive skills-"

"Cut the shit, Deacon. We both know you could do it. It wouldn't be the first time your crazy ass just waltzed into an enemy camp like you fucking belonged."

"I can neither confirm nor deny those allegations."

"I don't need ya to. You're not the only one who's connected," Hancock reminded him with a wink. "I know some things."

Deacon stared back at him. Hancock couldn't tell for sure, but he was pretty certain that the spy's eyes were locked with his. Just when the mayor was certain he had surprised him, Deacon's face split in a slow smile.

"You ever stop to consider the possibility that your connections are," he paused, chuckling as slowly as he had smiled, "my connections?"

Hancock wished his eyes hadn't gone even more round than usual. _Surely he's joking._ That was the thing about Deacon though. You never knew for sure.

"You do bring up a good point, though. Maybe we do need to approach this more like one of my ops…"

Hancock tried to get Deacon to elaborate, but the spy refused.

"I'll let you know once I've got it all worked out."

Hancock sighed. _Back to being a pain in my ass, I see. Of course._

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"I think it's time for a new plan. A change of location. A call for backup," Deacon mused out loud to Talitha as they lounged in bed. He was propped up against the headboard and a few pillows, long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, one arm draped around Talitha's shoulders. She was nestled in under his arm, body pressed tight to his. He could feel her breath on his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt as he enjoyed the gentle pressure of her arm around his waist.

"I think you're right; talk it out though," she encouraged with a squeeze, hugging him tight for a moment.

"We're too far from everything out here. I haven't been thinking clearly. I've been in such a damn panic I'm making rookie mistakes. Sanctuary is in the nosebleeds and we need to be front and center. Plus, when we do finally find her, it would behoove us to have one group of us go meet her head on, while another sneaks around the back. Why would we reveal our whole hand at once?"

As he spoke, he could hear the front door open and close, a pair of soft footfalls making their way across the common room to the stairs. _It's about time Sturges started assigning some of these empty rooms. The silence is starting to get to even me._

"All sound reasoning. Who are you including in this plan?"

"Well, you, me and Hancock, obviously. We need to reach out to Nick. I promised to call him back from Diamond City when it was go time. Maybe Preston and his Minutemen, but I'm not entirely sure they can be trusted, not after tonight." Deacon paused, sighing, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He felt a strange kinsmanship with Preston, in all honesty. He knew all too well what it was like chasing after the Institute. It was like hacking the head off a Hydra. Even though they shared a common enemy, there were a few people he was sorely missing right about now.

"What is it?"

"I really wish Charmer and Mac were here," Deacon responded, hearing footsteps out in the hall. "I've seen what they can do. Trust me, we could really use their help."

Deacon heard a hand on the door knob and sat up, pushing Talitha's upper body behind him protectively as the door swung open.

"Did I hear someone ask for a sniper?"

Deacon's mouth fell open in surprise at the smug smile on MacCready's face.

 _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"One sniper and one Deathclaw charmer at your service," MacCready continued, enjoying the hell out the wide mouthed look of shock on Deacon's face. _Too bad I can't see his eyes. I bet they're huge, too._ He could however see the spy's auburn colored eyebrows, raised as high as they were above the frame of his glasses. _A ginger? No wonder he shaves his head. That's far too memorable._

"What? Surprised to see us?" Charmer's head popped up over Mac's shoulder as Talitha straightened back up, laughing merrily. "Talitha?!"

"How was the Capital?" Talitha asked, only then noticing the sleeping boy nestled into MacCready's chest, held there by a long, intricately wrapped stip of fabric, head lolling bonelessly on his father's shoulder. "You found him!"

Mac smiled at the way her voice dropped at the sight of his son, a combination of wonder and worry over taking him.

"We sure did."

He still couldn't believe they had actually done it, that Little Lamplight had kept his son just as safe as it had him. So many things could have gone wrong.

"That's not all we found," Charmer said placing a hand on his shoulder. He stepped out of the way so Deacon and Talitha could see her and the small form she wore close to her body in the same manner that he wore Duncan.

"Who's this?" Talitha asked while getting up and hurrying closer, eyes wide, hands hovering just shy of touching the slumbering child.

Charmer smiled down at the child, arms wrapping around the softly snoring bundle.

"This is our daughter, Lexi. Duncan and her are so close, we just couldn't leave her behind."

MacCready could feel tears prickling at his eyes at just the thought of leaving Lexi in Little Lamplight. The moment he first laid eyes on his son again, Duncan had been holding tightly to the younger girl's hand, pulling her along as he ran headfirst into RJ's open arms. Holding the two of them, Charmer's hand resting on the top of his head, was one of the happiest moments of his life.

"She's precious," Talitha said, gently touching some of the child's golden hair.

"Isn't she?" Charmer whispered, looking up to meet Talitha's eyes. "Where's Adriana? I can't wait to introduce the kids to her."

Talitha froze.

"What is it? What's wrong?" MacCready asked, blood turning to ice in his veins.

"Adriana's whereabouts are, uh, complicated," Deacon answered. "Extremely complicated."

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Much later that night, after the kids were tucked away in the room next to theirs, cuddled up together under the covers, Charmer led the way into their customary room. Mac closed the door quietly behind them and she couldn't deny the feeling of homecoming.

"Are you okay?"

"I guess?" She tried to smile, but it was more of a sad, little twitch of her mouth. "I don't really know what I'm feeling," she admitted.

"Come here," RJ whispered and she gladly found her way into his embrace. "You heard Deacon's plan. We can do this. I know we can."

"I hope you're right, RJ. I just can't imagine a world where-"

"Don't go there, babe," he interrupted her kindly, brushing away a tear that was working it's way down her cheek. "It won't help. Plus, far more unlikely things have come to pass than Adriana surviving something ridiculous. I mean, she's made of tougher stuff than anyone I know."

"Yeah, the same stuff that Nora's made of," Charmer countered.

MacCready didn't have a rebuttal for that one.

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Charmer awoke later that night with tears streaming down her face, caused by a dream that was already slipping from recollection. She turned to wake MacCready, but he was already aware and pulling her into his chest. When the tears finally ceased, she cupped his cheek in one hand, kissing him softly on the mouth.

"The first night you're supposed to be able to get some decent sleep and here I am, waking you up over a dream I can't even remember. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said, returning her kiss.

Charmer moved her hand from his cheek to his back, tracing invisible patterns over his smooth, shirtless skin. It wasn't but a couple of moments before she could feel his skin turning to gooseflesh beneath her touch.

"You're too sweet by half," she whispered in the dark.

"I'm going to be a lot less sweet if you don't stop doing that," he said, voice sounding slightly choked.

"Am I bothering you?" She froze, worried.

"No, you're turning me on," he answered after a moment's pause.

Charmer burst out laughing, pressing herself against him as she did.

"Oh, very nice. Torture me some more why don't you?"

"No, baby, come here. I can be very, very good to you. I promise," she said, unable to completely erase the smile from her voice. "It's been such a long time. I miss you, too."

They hadn't had a moment alone since they had first found Duncan and Lexi. Charmer got a hand on one of his hips, her mouth searching for his.

That was all the invitation MacCready required, his hands roaming her curves greedily as she opened her mouth to his. She gasped as he pushed her back into the bed, hand dipping between her thighs to work it's way past her panties.

"Miss is an understatement," he whispered into her mouth as two of his fingers reached their goal. She tilted her hips as he entered her, eager for his attentions.

"I know it, babe." She reached for him, running her hand against him through his underwear. She freed him through the flap in his briefs, stroking the length of him and enjoying the shudder that passed through him. She trailed kisses up the line of his jaw until she found his ear, dipping her tongue inside and making his back arch, a strangled whine leaving his mouth.

"That's it," he threatened, pulling his fingers from her and falling bodily between her legs. He hooked a finger on her panties, holding them out of the way and plunged into her, hips meeting, muffled moans on both of their lips.

Charmer's nails dug into his hips as he thrust into her, urging him faster. It was desperate and sloppy, both of them trying to be quiet but wanting nothing more than to scream.

"Fuck, RJ," she muttered, one hand finding the back of his head and pulling him in for a quick kiss. "I'm close, honey."

"Me, too."

Getting up onto his knees, one hand fumbled around her underwear until his thumb found its goal and began working her clit in small circles. She brought one hand to her mouth, squirming beneath his touch.

"Come on, baby," he encouraged her, his thrusts becoming erratic as he began to lose himself, the sound of her muffled moans undoing him. He came hard, all the weeks of frustration catching up with him.

Charmer could feel him pulsing inside her, his mouth open in a soundless cry, and her walls clenched tight around him, pulling a strangled gasp from him as she came, pressing the palm of her hand into her mouth to stifle the sound.

Neither of them wanted to move, to break the spell of the moment, but eventually they had to. After they were relatively cleaned up and back in bed, RJ pulled her in close to his chest, combing his fingers gently through her hair.

"That sure was one hell of a nightmare cure, babe," Charmer said with a yawn.

He chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

"I'm glad I could help."

"Goodnight, love."

"Night, dear."

Charmer slept the rest of the evening, nightmare free.

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Deacon rose early, slipping out of the bed he shared with Talitha. He spared a moment at the door to look back over his shoulder longingly at his vacant spot beside her. _I bet it's still warm…_ He resolutely left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. There was just too much to be done.

By the time everyone else was waking up, all the supplies they would need were stuffed into packs that were lined up neatly, waiting to be carried off.

Preston ambled up to him as he was making his first pass of the morning watch, wary smile on his face.

"Heading off somewhere?"

"Yep," Deacon replied, tucking his hands casually into the front pockets of his jeans, "and so are you."

"I am?" Preston asked, brows drawn together in question.

"Why, you're escorting us to the Castle, General."

"I am?"

"Yep."

"Guess I better resupply and tell the men," he said hesitantly, head cocked to the side as he looked at the other man.

"Done and done. They'll be assembled and ready to move out at 0900 hours."

"They will? But how'd you-"

"Do you really wanna know?" Deacon arched a single brow over the frame of his glasses and Preston let out a long breath.

"No. I guess not. See you at 0900 then," Preston said, shaking his head as he continued on with his patrol.

 _Now if the rest of this would just go as smoothly, we'd be all set_.

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When it came down to it, none of Deacon's careful planning mattered. Whether it was coincidence or just dumb luck, the Institute attacked the Castle the day after they arrived. One minute everything was peaceful and the next there were synths everywhere, laser weapons at the ready.

Hancock looked around frantically, his eyes finding her almost immediately. She was only a matter of yards away. _Fuck! It's now or never._

"Sunshine!" He yelled it at the top of his lungs, his voice ringing out in the stunned, scared silence.

Her eyes went wide, the tip of her gun faltering, and Hancock smiled, his heart racing in his chest.

"Sunshine, it's me," he called, stepping towards her.

She stared right through him, her gun snapping back into place.

For one awful, gut wrenching moment he thought she was going to shoot him. Instead, she whispered something to the synth beside her, the very same one that had taken her last time, linked her arm through his, and they all disappeared again. Just like that. Taking all his hope with her in a flash of blue light. He stared at the space where she had been, just moments before.

Hancock thought it would have hurt a hell of a lot less if she would have just shot him.

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Guys. Don't be mad. The next chapter is written. It will be up (late) tomorrow. Cross my heart.  
3 Anastasia


	28. The Importance of Operational Procedures

"Why did you order the retreat, Nora? We could have taken them!" Shaun pounded his fist on the table before him, glaring at her petulantly. "Explain yourself!"

"Our last intel was incorrect. There were far more people there than planned for. I didn't want to waste valuable resources on a fight where victory wasn't assured," she replied, carefully monitoring her tone.

"But now we've tipped our hand! They know-"

"Nothing. They have no idea what we're up to. Nothing's been lost and we gained valuable intel."

"I can't agree! This is an unmitigated disaster. Get out of my sight!" Shaun turned his back to her and she obeyed without question, leaving his quarters.

She made a beeline for her private rooms, trying to walk casually, but almost definitely failing. She made it to her destination without incident, put down her weapon and headed straight for the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and undressed before stepping under the water's spray. Once the room was filled with steam she finally allowed herself to cry, hoping the water would cover the sound. She was all but certain they were spying on her, but she couldn't hold it in.

It had worked. Hancock had brought her back. That awful, ghoul killing bitch was gone. Adriana wished she could have run into Hancock's arms right then and there. _Fuck. The look on his face? He thinks he's lost me forever. And what about when he realizes he hasn't, that I lied to him? How's he ever going to trust me again?_

They had all been there, though. All the people she loved in one place, moments away from disaster at the hands of the Institute. She couldn't take that chance, no matter the cost. Besides, she couldn't just walk away from the Institute, not after everything she'd learned. _They have to pay._

Nora might not have been aware while Adriana had been meeting and falling in love with Hancock, but Adriana had been around for most of Nora's increasingly heinous choices. Once the bitch had shot poor Arlen she had spent less and less time awake, if that's what you called it. After that, she sank deeper into herself, getting lost in a mix of Hancock centered dreams and memories. She missed him desperately.

Catching glimpses of Nora doing her best to tear apart everything Preston and the Minutemen had worked so hard to create was almost too much to bear. Father had convinced her that they were in league with the Railroad and she had bought it hook, line, and sinker. Adriana wasn't entirely certain what his vendetta against the Minutemen was, but she could make a few educated guesses.

Preston had done more to organize the Commonwealth than anyone else had ever managed and more organization would make it harder for the Institute to pull their usual shit. Not to mention that some of the people within the Institute were starting to see hope up on the surface. It was one thing, to them at least, to use people that were likely to die anyway. They weren't just dying anymore, though. They were building new settlements; they were banding together, making something better for themselves, and the people in the Institute were beginning to notice, beginning to question. Not all of them, some of them couldn't care less as long as they had a steady stream of subjects for their experiments, but enough people were whispering behind closed doors that Father was beginning to worry.

 _He's worrying about all the wrong things, though. His biggest threat is coming at him in mom patterned wrapping paper._ She couldn't wait to see the look of shock and terror on his face when he realized he had miscalculated. _He underestimated me and it's going to cost him his life._

Standing up, she resolutely turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel. She opened the door, steam billowing out into the colder air of her quarters, before moving in front of the mirror and clearing some of the condensation from it with a sweep of her hand. She looked at her reflection, trying to relax it into the bland look of disinterest Nora always wore. _Drop the corners of your mouth, let your eye glaze over like you aren't listening to anyone, ever. There. Now you just have to hold it until Shaun's dead._

If she hadn't just spent months being trapped inside her own body, she might have disregarded the twinge or terror she felt. Instead, she looked her reflection straight in the eyes and smiled.

 _And there's nothing you can do about it._

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They all left the Castle the next morning, finding no reason to stay after the events of the day before. No one really spoke and even the children seemed to pick up on the morose mood of the adults. They travelled together until they had almost reached the old Atomatoys HQ, where they began to split off. Hancock, Deacon, and Talitha headed towards Goodneighbor, while Nick, MacCready, Charmer, and the kids were aiming for Diamond City. The little family intended to stay the night there before continuing on up to Sanctuary. As much as RJ and Charmer loved Goodneighbor, they had decided that Sanctuary would be the safest place to raise the kids. So, with heavy hearts, the group split up, heading their separate ways.

Once the trio reached Goodneighbor, Deacon pulled Talitha to the side.

He pressed her up against the side of the building, making a good show of it. To anyone passing by it would look like they were in the midst of a good old fashioned make-out session. Talitha was learning to pick up on Deacon's subtle body language though and wasn't surprised when he whispered in her ear.

"I have to go check in and tell the boss what happened." He slid a hand up the outside of her thigh, cupping her ass as he spoke.

"I'll be here when you get back," she whispered in return, using her nails to scratch down the length of his back.

"You don't mind?" He asked after leaving a trail of kisses up the slope of her neck.

"Just hurry back, okay?" She turned her head, catching his bottom lip between her teeth in a combination of warning and promise.

Deacon growled a little, deep in his throat, and pressed his mouth against hers, shoving his knee between her thighs and raising it up to meet her. She moaned, grinding against him, digging her nails into his his back.

"Promise," he pulled back far enough to look at her over the top of his glasses, giving her ass a firm squeeze. "You'll keep an eye on him for me, right?"

"Of course," she assured him, pecking him once more on the lips. "Now get outta here before I take advantage of this particularly handsy cover," she threatened with coy smile.

He cocked a brow at her, smiling.

"Hey, if you're ready for handsy, I'm game. No cover necessary, doll."

"I guess you'll just have to hurry back and find out." She pinched his ass before wiggling out of his grasp and heading toward the door Hancock had disappeared into. She looked back over her shoulder, pleased to see him watching the sway of her hips as she walked away, an appreciative smirk on his handsome face. When she reached the door, she blew him a kiss, laughing as he pretended to catch it and shove it into his pocket. _What a dork._

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Hancock grabbed a bottle of whiskey before collapsing into his favorite sofa and propping his dirty boots up on the coffee table with a hollow thud. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth, spitting it across the room, _won't be needing that,_ and took a rather large gulp. He stared off into the distance, bottle dangling from his hand over the arm of the sofa.

He was trying desperately to keep his mind blank, but damn it all if he wasn't picturing Adriana perched on his desk, legs splayed before him, like the first time he'd ever tasted her. He took another long pull from the bottle, looking over at the door, remembering how pissed he was when Fahr burst through it. As he stared at the worn wood of the door, it inched open. This time it was, thankfully, Talitha's sweet face poking hesitantly into the room instead of Fahrenheit blowing in unannounced. As much as he cared for and appreciated his right hand, he wasn't in the mood for her particular brand of tough love.

"Well, come on in, sweetheart. I figured you'd be hangin' around while Deacon went about his business."

"I can find somewhere-"

"Nonsense," he interrupted her, waving her into the room. "Plus, if I can talk ya into havin' a drink with me, I won't seem quite as pathetic."

"No persuasion required," she assured him with a smile. She entered the room, closing the door softly behind herself, and joined him on the sofa.

He passed her the bottle and she took an impressive swig, before handing it back and tucking her feet up underneath her. They sat in silence for a bit, the only sound that of the whiskey leaving the bottle in gulp-sized increments. When enough alcohol was buzzing through their bloodstreams, Talitha hesitantly turned to look at Hancock.

"Do you want to talk about her?"

"More than anything," he answered softly. "I'm just so scared I'm going to forget something about her, that some tiny detail is going to escape me and be lost forever."

Hancock's eyes were focused on the bottle in his hands, trying to look anywhere but Talitha's face.

"Then tell me." Talitha placed her hand on his for a moment, squeezing it reassuringly. "Start at the beginning."

"When she showed up here in Goodneighbor, she was barely more than skin and bones. She was so weak, she couldn't even open the door," Hancock said, shaking his head, small smile picking up one corner of his mouth. "I was sure I'd terrify the shit outta her, but instead, she threw herself into my arms without a moment's hesitation. Let me tell ya, I don't get too many smoothskins throwing themselves into my arms like that, especially ones that don't know me." He paused, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "I hadn't felt that accepted since I traded in my skin for immortality. Maybe that's silly, but it left an impression, that's for sure."

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Talitha listened, enthralled, while Hancock spoke, the pleasant rasp of his voice combining with the whiskey to create something that danced between melodic and dissonant. His story, the love he was describing, was beautiful in ways she couldn't put words to. She had never been a part of a love like that, was only just dipping her toe into the waters of something that may or may not even become.

She wished, more than anything, that she could give him the happy ending he deserved. She wanted something meaningful to say to him, to be able to offer him some kind of enlightening advice that would at least alleviate a minuscule amount of his pain, but she had nothing. All she could offer him was her presence and her ear and hope that it was enough.

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Deacon was confident that if Adriana had compromised the Railroad's location, or any vital information, the Institute would have already acted on it. They were more active now than they had ever been, braver thanks to Nora's tactical training. If they had a lead, they would have pounced on it. It was time to give the all clear, he was sure of it.

Slipping into an empty alley, Deacon removed a few loose bricks from the side of a building, revealing one of his many disguise caches. He hastily threw an old, maroon flannel on over his white tee and pulled his wig off, tucking it away with a loving caress. _I'll be back for you soon._

And just like that, he was a new man. When he exited the alley on the other side, it wasn't with the same cocky jaunt he had entered it with. Instead, he adopted more a more cautious skulk, peeking around corners nervously.

Deacon used the back door, slipping into the shadows quietly. He knew Drummer Boy was here. Dez would have left him to watch the place and by now Deacon was sure he had gotten sloppy. _Time to teach the kid the importance of operational procedures._

Looking over the frames of his glasses, he began carefully threading his way through fallen bricks, keeping an eye out for traps. _Ah, there you are._ His eye was caught by a flash of light glinting off the tripwire a few feet ahead of him. _Gonna have to hide it better to catch me, bucko._ He stepped over it easily and continued deeper into the HQ, easily dodging the rest of Drummer's traps.

Keeping close to the wall, he had no problem locating Drummer Boy, who was sitting at a desk in the middle of the room, mostly turned away from Deacon's position. With his feet propped up and leaning back heavily in his chair, Drummer was messily shoving noodles into his face. _Tsk tsk tsk. Now what would Desdemona have to say about this?_ Deacon smiled at the back of the unsuspecting kid's head. _Now I just have to decide how badly I want to scare him…_

The answer was, just enough to get him to wear that bowl of noodles like a hat, but not enough to make him piss his pants. _Challenge accepted._

Sometimes, the best plans are the simplest. He crept up behind the woefully unaware courier and then cleared his throat in his best dissapointed Desdemona impression. It was pure gold. He'd never seen Drummer jump like that, his noodle bowl flying up into the air. Deacon reached out, under the guise of steadying the poor fellow, when really he was just lining him up under his descending noodles.

 _Success!_

"You're not going to tell Dez about this, are ya?" Drummer asked him as they started cleaning up the mess formerly known as dinner.

Deacon smiled, throwing a conspiratory arm around the younger man's shoulders.

"Well, Drum, that really all depends…"

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Hancock wasn't sure which one of them fell asleep first or when, but when he woke up it was to find Talitha still curled up at the end of the sofa, head tipped back, small snores disrupting the air around her. He was relieved to have woken first, because he had fallen asleep cuddling with the empty whiskey bottle; now he just had to hope that Fahrenheit hadn't seen.

He watched Talitha for a moment, thinking that Deacon had really done him a good turn. Hancock didn't doubt for one moment that the spy had orchestrated Talitha staying the evening in Goodneighbor. He'd probably never admit to it, but Hancock knew and was forever thankful. Talking to Talitha had eased something in him. He wasn't okay, probably never would be again, not truly. He wasn't in that destructive headspace that he usually went to when things fell apart, though, and that was really the best he could hope for right now, anyway. He didn't want to disappear into a bender, waking up weeks from now with only pieces of memory to cobble together to account for his whereabouts. Adriana deserved better. He was determined to feel every day of his pain, because it was his last real connection to the woman he loved.

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MacCready and Charmer were back on the road again. It seemed like that's all they ever did these days and MacCready, for one, was looking forward to not leaving Sanctuary for a good long time. He and Charm both needed time to lick their emotional wounds and bond with the kids. Convincing them to get back into the carriers this morning had taken all their skill and not a little bribery, not that he could blame them. At this rate they were going to forget how to walk, they had gotten to do so little of it.

Charmer was walking in front of him, singing quietly to Lexi in an attempt to get her to quit trying to squirm out of her carrier. _I wish I knew how to help you._ Charmer hadn't spoken to him about Adriana at all last night. The four of them had all slept in the same bed, the kids squeezed in between the two of them. He had heard her crying softly into her pillow, but the most she would give him was her hand, which was so unlike her. He was worried that this was just one loss too many. She had already endured so much; would he be enough to get her through this one?

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Deacon had spent most of the night making drops and meeting tourists, putting his carefully orchestrated system back into place. It was time to get serious again. He knew what he had seen, what everyone had seen, how it had been interpreted, but somehow the narrative just wasn't sitting right with him. He knew Adriana too well. He'd worked missions with her and watched her for long enough before that to know all her tells. He was playing this one close to the vest, though, for multiple reasons.

First, he could be wrong. It wouldn't be the first time, after all. No sense getting everyone's hopes up. Secondly, if he was right, everyone still needed to act like nothing had changed. Adriana's life depended on it. He was all but certain they now had a Railroad operative inside the Institute, something no one had ever been able to manage, and he wasn't going to let a breach in protocol get her killed.

So he went about touching base with all the contacts Adriana had ever seen him use, leaving coded messages at all the drops they had established for use between the two of them just in case they were ever needed. He wanted her to know that he had her back, just like he always had, always would.

 _Let's give 'em hell, Professor._

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Thanks for reading! 3


	29. Privacy at a Premium

Shaun narrowed his eyes at the reports in front of him. He was relieved, but surprised to see his suspicions unfounded. _I usually have such good instincts for these things._ He truly thought he had missed something about Nora. Everything had seemed to be going well, but then there was the whole debacle with the Minutemen. He had been sure there was more to it than the obvious, but if there was, none of Adriana's friends were privy to it. _Surely if this were all a part of some elaborate plan, they would seem happy, as opposed to more depressed._

After reading through the reports once more, Shaun tucked them into a manilla folder and pushed his chair away from his desk. He dug his keys out of his coat pocket as he walked over to the file cabinet that contained his most sensitive intel reports, most of them pertaining to his mother. It hadn't been difficult to slip operatives into her vicinity. Sanctuary welcomed anyone and the only challenge with Goodneighbor had been finding someone willing to live among the ghouls and their rampant chem use.

By all accounts, Adriana's friends had finally given up on her, separating and starting to move on with their lives. The reports weren't very long or detailed since he had put a rush on the intel; it had only been a few days since the incident, after all. _This is promising, though. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe it's time to start including her in some of our more controversial work._

Shaun closed the drawer after filing the reports, locked them away, and returned to his computer to flip through the security cameras, looking for Nora. He started with the camera in her room, but it was vacant. It took a few moments, but he finally found her in the cafeteria eating lunch with Dr. Li. It was nice to see her finally making an effort to socialize. Hopefully, this was an indication that she was finally settling in.

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Adriana had decided Dr. Li was going to be her first target. She had gotten the distinct impression that maybe the woman was less than happy with her current situation. This approach would take time, though. She couldn't just come out and ask her, Adriana had to earn the doctor's trust. This was just day one. They chatted over lunch, not about anything important, and then Adriana excused herself, heading back to her room. Pretending to be Nora was exhausting and rather boring.

Yesterday, while Father had been closeted with his board of directors discussing their new plan of action to deal with the Minutemen, she had snuck into his quarters and hacked into his terminal. She had been right, the ass was spying on her. His office was one of the only places without video surveillance. She cycled through the feeds, mentally mapping out blind spots. The only good thing she discovered was that their wasn't a lot of audio being recorded. _Just in my room, of course._ Well, that and the fact that the bathroom seemed to be about as safe as it got around here. She could feel Nora's disbelief at what she had discovered.

" _See? He's spying on you,"_ Adriana thought pointedly.

" _That just means he has good instincts,"_ Nora thought back. Adriana was dismayed by a sudden feeling of smug pride.

" _Whatever you have to tell yourself. We both know that you're just as unsettled as I am. Now go away. I have work to do."_

Adriana made it back to her quarters and went straight into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. Shaun probably thought she had some kind of weird germophobia with how many showers she was taking, but it was the only way to assure herself some privacy and she definitely didn't want him watching what she was about to do. _I already have one constant observer and three's a crowd, after all._

She turned on the water and undressed, checking the temperature before stepping in. Missing Hancock was a constant ache. She tried to keep him far from her mind, not wanting to share even the thought of him with the bitch in her mind, but the need of him was overwhelming. She leaned back against the cool tiles of the shower wall, enjoying the sharp contrast of hot and cold. In some ways, that was her and Hancock. He was rough while she was smooth. He was hot anger while she cool, calculated precision.

She thought about that night in the tower, how he had pulled the zipper of her dress down with agonizing slowness. She remembered what it had felt like when he pushed the dress off her shoulders, his hands brushing across the tops of her shoulders, tantalizingly. She closed her eyes, imagining his lips on her fevered flesh, his hands on her waist pulling her against him.

Her hand slid down between her thighs and she tried to pretend it was Hancock's fingers entering her instead of her own. She pressed the palm of her hand against her clit, working her fingers deeper.

" _Wait- you're telling me you actually had sex with that.. Thing?! With MY body?!"_

Adriana sighed, throwing her head back into the wall of the shower, just hard enough to hurt.

 _What I wouldn't give for a little god damn privacy._

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After several days of nonstop work for the Railroad, Deacon was finally heading back to Goodneighbor and, most importantly, Talitha. _As riveting as endless debriefings are, it's nice to be away from HQ again._ Deacon was a field agent for a reason; he didn't play nice with others. Especially when those others doubted him.

He had been afraid to tell anyone other than Dez about his suspicions regarding Adriana, but luckily he didn't have to yet. She had agreed that it was safer for Adriana if as few people as possible knew. Dez already had a no-kill order issued on Nora and she had reaffirmed that it was still in place during the briefings. Carrington and a few others had voiced their disagreement, but Dez had silenced them with nothing more than a pointed look.

After a quick, and disappointing, check of the nearby drops, he retrieved his wig. A few quick disguise adjustments and he was hightailing it back towards those neon lights.

He entered the town and he wasn't but a few steps in when he heard Talitha's bright laugh. She was sitting at the small table just inside of the shop, chatting with the owner. Daisy's delightfully raspy laugh joined Talitha's and Deacon smiled. Strolling casually to the bench right outside, Deacon flopped down, pulling out a Grognak comic he had folded in half in his back pocket. He didn't have to pretend to read long, because he caught her eyeing him discreetly out of his peripherals. She waited several moments before making her excuses to Daisy and leaving the store. He couldn't have been more proud of her when she walked by him without so much as a glance.

He gave her a head start before stretching and standing up casually, returning the comic to his back pocket. He had almost passed the alley on his right when he caught a glimpse of her. He turned, following her around the corner of the warehouse and out of sight.

They didn't speak, they just picked up where they had left off. He pinned her against the bricks, covering her mouth with his. She moaned, arching her back, her breasts pressing firmly against him. He slid a hand into her hair, grabbing it firmly and using it to turn her head to the side, revealing her slender, scarred neck. He started just below her ear, trailing kisses down until he reached her collarbone, enjoying the way she shuddered under his touch and the needy sounds that left her mouth as she clutched at his hips, trying to pull him closer.

"Go rent a room at the Rexford," he whispered after working his way back up her neck to her ear.

She nodded and he kissed her once more before stepping back. He noticed that she seemed a little unsteady on her feet and smiled to himself, readjusting himself inside his jeans. _Me too, babe. Me, too._

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Talitha left the door to the room unlocked before crossing to sit on the edge of the bed. Her heart rate increasing with every passing minute, knowing that each one brought her closer to being in Deacon's arms once more. If she hadn't been staring at the door, she might not have noticed the knob turn. She sat up straighter, but when the door opened, there was no one there. _Well, no one I can see…_

The door closed softly in its frame and she sat, tense with anticipation, waiting to see what would happen next. She couldn't hear even the faintest footfall, but after a few agonizing moments she could feel the gentle pressure of fingers, _his_ fingers, trailing up her thighs. She moaned, arching her back, as his hands pulled her thighs apart. Her shirt raised, seemingly of its own accord, and then she could feel his warm breath as it ghosted over the curve of her hip.

When his warm lips met her chilled skin she couldn't keep from reaching, blindly, for his shoulders. He trailed kisses across her torso, ending just below her belly button. She could feel his hands on the button of her jeans, his hesitation a clear question.

 _Is this okay?_

She smiled, fingers trailing up his neck and over the familiar plane of his cheek until her questing hands landed on the frames of his glasses. She pulled them off gently, smiling at the familiar sight of them in her hands, before folding them carefully and placing them on the bedside table.

 _With you? Of course._

She watched as the button worked itself free, shifting her weight so that her jeans could slide down her thighs, knees, then calves before being pulled free completely. His hands slid up her legs, feather soft kisses gracing her skin at random, unpredictable intervals. She was already quivering under his touch, the anticipation alone would have been enough to accomplish that, when she felt him press a kiss against the damp cloth of her panties.

Her hips jerked of their own accord and she could swear she felt him smiling against her in satisfaction. Hooking a finger around the small strip of fabric, he pulled it out of the way before running his tongue up the length of her. Her head fell back as her mouth uttered encouraging nonsense, pulling him closer. But in true Deacon fashion, you never could predict what was coming next.

Before she knew what was happening, she was laying down further up on the bed, his mouth on her neck, the familiar feel of him against her as he pushed one finger into her. She bit her lip as he entered her, choking back the sound of his name on her tongue. She wasn't sure if saying his name was off limits, if it would spoil the game, so she settled for more nonsensical mutterings instead.

Her fingers clawed at his back as his mouth found hers, the taste of him only making her want him more. He added another finger, stretching her pleasantly, as he nipped at her bottom lip.

"Please," she asked, a breathless whine.

And boy did he deliver.

He worked his fingers, curving them just right as she squirmed against him, trying to pull him closer. His mouth found her neck again as her hips moved, the two of them finding complementary rhythms, the tempo increasing as he brought her closer and closer to completion. Just when she was about to come, his thumb found her clit and she saw stars, her orgasm forcing his name from her mouth as he held her close, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from her willing body.

When she opened her eyes, his were above her, his smile coming in answer to hers.

"Well hey there, handsome," she said breathlessly.

"Hey there, yourself."

He moved, laying on his side and pulling her close to his chest, spoon style.

"Thank you."

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

"I should be saying that to you," he said, pressing a kiss into the back of her head.

"How do you figure?"

He didn't answer right away, but she waited and her patience was eventually rewarded.

"Not everyone one is down to fool around with the invisible man."

She laughed, turning in his arms so she could face him.

"Only if that invisible man is you," she said, kissing the tip of his nose.

"I just-" he was interrupted by her lips on his.

"No explanation necessary."

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As Deacon stared into her eyes, he realized she actually did understand and that, more than anything else they had done, made his heart ache in a way he hadn't felt in what seemed like centuries. He held her close, trying in vain to keep one thought from his mind. _How long before I lose you, too?_

He kissed the top of her head, trying to focus on the gentle rhythm of her breath against his chest. _Just focus on the here. Just focus on now._

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Adriana was itching to get some surface time. She was suffocating in sterile white and strict routine. Shaun hadn't said she wasn't allowed to take any missions, but he sure as hell wasn't assigning her, or X6, to any, though. They were clearly on punishment. _Grudge holding child._

Adriana had to work not to sigh aloud. It was endlessly frustrating that every time she thought something uncharitable about Shaun, she was filled with anger and resentment that weren't her own, if only for a moment.

She was making slow progress with Dr. Li, at least. It was hard to gain the woman's trust after months of Nora stomping around, the picture of motherly devotion. She was making headway, though; she could feel it. She was just leaving the doctor's office, in fact, when X6 fell in step beside her.

"Ma'am."

"X," she replied with a stiff nod.

"You know you don't have to have permission to leave the compound, right?"

She would swear the sound of his voice qualified as sly.

"Oh?" She tilted her head, looking up at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Not if I go with you. For training purposes, of course. Wouldn't want to lose your edge."

"No, sure wouldn't want that," she said, fighting down a smile. She was enjoying the confusion that Nora was supplying. _What? Didn't see that coming either?_

X6 walked with her to her quarters so she could pick up her equipment and then they were off to the surface.

She stood, face lifted to the sky as a gentle breeze blew by her. The Wasteland, this was where she belonged. Nora might feel at home in the regimented atmosphere of the Institute, but not Adriana. She needed the unpredictability of the surface. _Hell, what I really need is Hancock._ She couldn't just run off to him, but she could do the next best thing. Time to make the rounds.

"Lead the way, ma'am."

 _Gladly._ She stepped forward, confidently, holding her rifle up at the ready. She had her knife strapped to her thigh, something Nora wasn't known for doing regularly, but hopefully X6 didn't take note. She was dying for something up close and personal; damn her cover. X6 was just going to have to chalk it up to her having been caged for far too long.

In true Commonwealth fashion, not much time had elapsed before they came across a den of Super Mutants and Adriana grinned savagely. They weren't far from one of her and Deacon's private drops and she intended to use the fight as cover to do what she needed to. She signaled X6 to circle around as she stalked closer to the entrance. Once her partner was out of sight, she crouched down by the mailbox, drawing a cross inside a heart, surrounded by rays. It was her special symbol, to be used in case there wasn't time to leave a more detailed message. Looking from side to side, to make sure the coast was clear, she reached inside the old mailbox, holding her breath.

Her heart stopped as her hand closed around the folded scrap of paper. _He knows. I'm not alone._ The relief that washed over her almost brought tears to her eyes. She could feel Nora's unease, but shoved her away with more fierceness than normal and was rewarded with silence, for once.

She didn't have time to celebrate though, because she could feel the thunderous tread of a Mutant headed her way. _Time to party._ She popped up, smiling as she pulled the trigger in one fluid motion. _Damn, it's good to be back._

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The rest of the afternoon went about in the same fashion. She couldn't make it to every drop, wouldn't be smart to, but she made it to a respectable number of them. Every time her hand closed around another scrap of paper, her heart soared a little higher. She had felt so isolated for so long. To know that Deacon was out here, waiting, protecting her in any way he could filled her with renewed determination. _We can do this. We can defeat them._

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When Talitha fell asleep that night, Deacon slipped out from under the covers. He wouldn't be able to sleep until he checked the drops again. He knew chances were slim, but he had to be thorough. He slipped out of the hotel unnoticed, Carla distracted by Fred, annoyance clear on her features.

The first drop he reached hadn't been touched. He tried to keep his spirits from dropping as he made his way to the next location. He rounded the corner and had to fight the urge to lift his sunglasses for a better look. _It can't be…_ As he got closer, there was no denying it.

Relief flooded his body at the sight of her sign, hastily scrawled on the side of the mailbox. _I knew it! I fucking knew it!_ He reached inside the box, but there wasn't anything inside. Not surprising, really. She probably hadn't had time for all that. His correspondence was gone though, so at least she knew she wasn't alone. He couldn't keep the smile from pulling at the corners of his mouth. _She's alive. Now it's my job to keep her that way._

Deacon hurried off toward HQ. He had to tell Dez. He had proof now and everyone was going to have to get on board, like it or not. Nothing was going to stop him from getting Adriana out alive, but not before they finally brought the Institute crumbling down in her wake. He'd waited so many years for an opportunity like this. Now he just had to not fuck it up. _You can do this. You have to._ Filled with determination, Deacon strolled into the HQ.

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Hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter! 3 3  
I would love to hear what you all think, the good, the bad, and the dirty. ;) Drop me a line or find me on Tumblr! panicatthethirdrail  
THANKS FOR READING!


	30. The In Between

_Maggie woke up with the gentle heat of the sun kissing her skin. She sat up, stretching hugely as a sleepy yawn escaped her. She looked around, surprised to see that she was the only one still in bed. She didn't usually get to sleep in, being the oldest sibling of a farming family, and she stood up, looking around suspiciously._

 _As she neared the front door of their little cottage, more of a shack really, cottage just sounded cuter, she could hear voices in hushed conversation just outside._

" _Father should have been back by now. She's going to wake up before he shows up, how much you wanna bet?"_

" _Of course she'll wake up first, that's just how the world works. There's no way we'll get to pull this off. "_

" _Have some faith, you two. Never underestimate the power of positive thinking."_

 _At the sound of the third voice, Maggie froze._ Mom _. Surely it had only been since yesterday that she heard that familiar cadence, the sweet, lilting tones of her soft-spoken mother, but somehow it felt like decades instead. She felt heartsick with longing and torn with indecision. On the one hand, she wanted to throw open the door and run into her mother's arms, but if she did, it would only prove her mother wrong and disappoint her sisters._

 _So she waited._

 _Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Just as she was about to open the door, she heard one of her sisters gasp._

 _"Well, well, well… What do we have here? Having a little party, are we?" His voice was low and rough, twisted with a harshness that was all too common in the Wastes._

 _"Quite the setup you've got here! A real cake and everything. How fancy." The second man's voice was higher, pitched in fake jovality._

" _Would you like some? We surely have enough to share," her mother offered, not a hint of fear in her voice. Maggie's heart lurched in her chest. She would never understand how such an apparently fragile outside could contain a center of unshakable steel. It had always been her mother, tiny and quiet, that had held their family together through the roughest of times; her narrow shoulders somehow supporting the collective weight of her family while her father's broad ones bowed beneath the pressure._

 _"I daresay you do!" The second voice answered. "But the cake's not the main attraction."_

 _Maggie reached for the shotgun that always rested by the door, but the sound of gunfire shocked her into stillness, hand catching on nothing but air._

 _Cruel laughter broke into the silence that followed, the twin wails of her sisters hot on its heels._

 _"Trust me, it's kinder this way. She wouldn't wanna see what's comin' next."_

 _Maggie grabbed the gun and flung the door wide, but then, in the way of dreams, she walked out into a different place entirely. Adriana was there, armed to the teeth, and standing at attention._

 _"Adriana! You're okay!" Charmer cried, running toward her._

 _Adriana didn't move, though. She didn't smile. She didn't open her arms to embrace the woman she called sister._

 _"Sister?" Charmer asked, voice barely sounding._

 _Only then did her words receive acknowledgement, as a cruel smile curled the lips of her sister's face, changing it into the face of another._

 _"Nora," she gasped._

 _The other woman nodded slowly, raising her laser rifle until all Charmer could see was its barrell followed by nothing but red._

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A piercing scream pulled R.J. from the relatively shallow depths of slumber that were all he ever allowed himself. Without thought, he grabbed the handgun from the nightstand, pointing it at the door. It was only then that he realized the threat hadn't come from outside.

Returning the gun to its resting place, he turned to Charmer, pulling her in close. He wanted to reassure her, tell her it would all work out, that life couldn't possibly be as cruel as it seemed. It was as though and he couldn't bring himself to utter such lies. Instead, he just held her. No soothing sounds, no baseless platitudes, just the physical reassurance that he was there and would continue to be there for as long as the wastes allowed it.

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"How do we know that Nora isn't behind this? What if we're playing right into her hands?"

Deacon took a deep breath, wishing an endless stream of horrifying deaths on Carrington for what seemed like the millionth time. _How can you be THAT stupid?_

"Why am I not surprised that I have to spell this out for you? If Nora had access to Adriana's knowledge and was running the show, we'd all be piles of smoking ash by now. Nora wouldn't need us to play into her hand, because she'd already have all the cards- including the location we're all currently standing in." Deacon turned to look at Desdemona, surprised at the little upturned corner of her mouth. _Looks like the boss agrees..._

"Enough. Deacon is our most senior agent and it would do some of you good to remember that. There's a reason he's been around as long as he has; he's good at his job. If Deacon says Adriana has infiltrated the Institute, then that's good enough for me. If it's good enough for me, then the rest of you better fall in line. Am I clear?"

The room was filled with the begrudging sounds of acquiescence while Deacon tried his best to not look smug. He failed.

"From now until otherwise stated, Deacon's work takes precedence. We're going to need all hands on deck for this."

The chorus of moans that met Deacon's ears was nothing less than musical.

"You heard the boss! Now gather round, my children. I have a special task for each and every one of you. Except you, Carrington," Deacon said with a magnanimous smile. "You just go do whatever nonsense it is that you usually occupy your time with."

Carrington opened his mouth to, undoubtedly, argue, but Deacon held up a hand.

"I don't have time for you. Shoo!"

Carrington looked positively scandalized as Deacon waved his hands in the doctor's direction. He did, however, shoo. _Things are really going my way today. That's just… weird._

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Hancock, unable to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, was standing on his balcony as the morning began to arrive, her first few rays of sun lighting the dark almost imperceptibly. He liked this time, the in between, the minute changes that you can miss so easily if you aren't paying attention to them. Dark one moment and the the next, light.

He sighed, thinking about the moment he went to open the door of Goodneighbor, that fateful night. It was much the same. One moment his life was nothing but darkness and then the next, filled with light; her light. He remembered that brief instance of in between vividly, though. That moment where he had his hand on the knob, nothing but the unknown on the other side.

He shook his head, a mirthless chuckle sounding in the still of the growing light. Everything reminded him of her. He knew it was trite, but that didn't make it any less true. He was driving himself crazy, carrying on a constant stream of conversations with her in his head. Where one ended, another began.

Leaning onto the railing, a movement below caught his eye. _Is that… huh. It sure is._ Deacon was slinking through the shadows below, headed toward the Rexford. _What have you been up to?_ It was probably just normal Railroad business, but he felt the faintest flicker of hope begin to stir in his chest. _What if…_

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Talitha sighed as Deacon slipped back into bed, wrapping his chilled body around her warm one. She wiggled, inching closer and tucking her head under his chin.

"Everything go okay?" She cleared her throat, trying to smooth out the sleep roughened edges of her voice.

"Surprisingly… yes," came his cautious reply, followed by a kiss to the crown of her head.

Silence gathered around them in the slowly brightening room, until Talitha couldn't keep the words back any longer.

"You'll tell us when there's something we can do to help, right?"

Deacon's whole body went rigid against hers and she turned so she could look into his carefully blank face.

"You're not losing your touch," she said quietly. "It's just harder to keep secrets when there are people around that care about you and therefore notice you." She kissed the tip of his nose and was relieved to feel him come back to life beneath her lips, his arms tightening around her.

"Right now, the most crucial part of the plan is for everyone to continue what they're doing. Do you understand?" His lips were pressed close to her ear, years of secret keeping and shadow slinking making him nervous to speak in anything but the softest of voices, and his warm breath sent shivers down her spine. She knew what it must have cost him, giving her that little bit, and it was all she needed, but he hadn't finished yet. "When the time comes though, yes. I will. I promise."

There was something so intimate about that word coming out of his liar's mouth. _Promise._

"Thank you," she whispered back, before turning to find his lips with hers. She caught his face between her hands, holding him still so she could show him just how much she appreciated his honesty. Deacon, ever the type to twist a situation to his advantage, pushed his tongue into her mouth, greedily exploring while his hands found the curve of her ass, pulling her hips against his.

Talitha moaned breathlessly into the kiss, more than willing to let him take the lead. Liar he might be to others, but the words he gave her had only ever been truths and she was happy to put herself in his capable hands. Her eyes met his and she was suddenly struck by the difference in his. The first time she had seen his eyes, all she had been able to think was that they seemed so indescribably sad, but here, in this moment, she found no trace of it. She smiled against his mouth, happy to have accomplished at least that, if nothing else.

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The only thing keeping Adriana from snapping was the mental image of slitting Shaun's throat with the blade she had been given by Hancock. Everytime she had to sit next to half her genes at a meeting, or listen to some Institute lackey scoff at the idea of synths as real people, she would imagine the blade digging into his soft flesh and for a moment she would feel better.

Then, unfortunately, Nora would get all bent out of shape and freak out, sending her body through all the physical responses of stress and terror. It was, in a word, exhausting. Everything was exhausting, though. Keeping up the facade, listening to Nora's endless recriminations, and looking for opportunities to, oh so carefully, check the dead drops were all taxing in ways she never could have anticipated.

There were a few glimmers of hope that kept her holding on, though. First, knowing that Deacon and the Railroad had her back and, second, her budding friendship with Madison. Dr. Li had become surprisingly candid with her as of late and Adriana was surprised to find that she genuinely liked the woman. It had taken some prodding, but during lunch one day Madison had finally voiced some of her discontent.

"I just think the Institute is inherently selfish," she said under her breath, eyes darting from side to side to make sure no one was paying them any unwanted attention.

"You're not wrong," Adriana replied, voice low.

Madison's eyes narrowed in suspicion for a moment before releasing the tension she had held in her shoulders, relaxing in the relief of shared sentiment.

"We could be helping so many people up on the surface and instead we do, what? Sit here, safe, hoarding our technology and watching people die from afar. It's disgusting."

"If only watching was all the Institute was doing. They are actively making the surface more dangerous, not less."

"How would I know? They only allow me access to what they think I need to know. There's no transparency. Hell, they still won't even tell me what happened to Virgil. I insisted that they launch a full investigation and… nothing. They locked up his lab and threw away the key," Madison looked up at Adriana through her eyelashes, the worry clear on her face.

"You two were close, I take it?" Adriana placed her hand on the table next to the doctor's, brushing her pinky deliberately against the other woman's hand. She wished she could do more to comfort her friend, but she knew Shaun was watching and didn't want him to know they were talking about anything important.

"Close," she said, exhaling sharply. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Do you want me to find out what happened to him?"

The two women locked eyes and after a long moment, Madison gave the briefest of nods.

"Consider it done," Adriana said, gathering the remains of her lunch.

As she stood to leave, she heard Dr. Li's whispered caution, "Be careful, please."

 _I will be. Don't you worry._ It felt good to have a mission again, one that she could immediately act on and didn't leave her feeling like an awful human being, that is. Plus, if she could find proof that the Institute had done something to Virgil, she knew she could get Madison firmly on her side. To have just one true ally on the inside with her would be invaluable.

 _One ally won't be enough to take down the Institute. You're kidding yourself._

 _Am I though?_ Adriana responded smugly to Nora. _I guess we'll see, won't we?_

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Adriana knew all the camera's blind spots by now and since Shaun was due at a meeting soon, she knew she wasn't likely to find a better opportunity. She made her way to the secured door of Virgil's lab, quickly hacking into the terminal outside of it to gain entrance and then immediately reactivating the laser grid from the other side. The last thing she needed was for someone to notice that it had been tampered with.

Adriana was relatively certain that this area was not under video surveillance, but that didn't mean there weren't other security measures in place. She cautiously opened the next door, wondering what in the world an FEV lab was.

"What in the hell is this?" She stopped in the doorway, staring in dumbfounded shock. There were three large cylinders, two of which were filled with a green fluid and, the real shocker, one super mutant a piece. There had obviously been a struggle, glass from the third containment tube was everywhere, it's viscous liquid pooling around the room. Shelves were tipped over and computers were smashed, leaving her worried that any information regarding what had happened had been destroyed in the tussle.

If she had to hazard a guess, it looked as though one of Virgil's subjects had broken free and attacked him, which didn't bode well in more ways than one. She doubted an unarmed scientist would have survived an angry super mutant in close proximity. More importantly, though, was that if that was indeed what had happened, it wasn't likely to push Madison into full on rebellion against the Institute.

Sighing, Adriana picked her way through the destroyed lab, careful not to slip. It wasn't until she had reached the far side of the room that her eyes landed on an intact terminal. _Jackpot!_ She logged on and quickly read through the data, rage growing with every word. She wished she could copy the files from the computer to show Madison, but if either of them got caught in possession of this information… _Not worth it. She'll just have to believe me._

Adriana logged off the terminal, determined to find any scrap of evidence before returning to her friend. _What happened to you, Virgil?_

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Not known for his subtlety, Hancock was leaning against the Old State House watching the door of the Rexford and playing with his knife. He hadn't slept, but the Mentats were enough to keep him going as he waited. _It won't be long now.  
_  
He was right. The door cracked open and Deacon slithered out, the door returning to its frame without so much as a sound. The spy must have felt Hancock's eyes on him though, because his head snapped up, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Why don't we take this upstairs, Hancock."

"After you," Hancock agreed, motioning for Deacon to precede him up the stairs. This wasn't his first tango with Deacon and he wasn't about to give the man a chance to slip away.

"What aren't you telling me?" Hancock asked as soon as the door to his office was closed behind them.

Deacon just stared at him from behind his glasses, entire body tensed. Hancock sighed. _Why's he always gotta be so damn difficult?_

"Just tell me you haven't given up, that you're working an angle… anything. I just need… something." His voice shook as he spoke, hope swelling inside his irradiated chest.

"And I need you to look defeated. It's fucking crucial. It's your one damn job and you can't even do that right," Deacon whispered menacingly.

Hancock swallowed hard, stepping away from the door. Deacon moved to leave, but paused, hand on the knob. He didn't look up, but Hancock saw the tension leave his shoulders before he finally spoke.

"I'm going to get her back for you. You did your job… now it's time for you to let me do mine."

Deacon slipped from the room and Hancock couldn't even hear his feet on the stairs as he descended. He couldn't move, could barely breathe as Deacon's words echoed in his head. " _You did your job..."_ _She's alive. She's alive and inside the Institute._ Followed quickly by, _and you're going to get her killed because you can't just fall apart like you're supposed to._

The irony of it all hadn't escaped him. The one time he actually dealt with his grief in a nondestructive way just happened to be the one time people were counting on him to sell their cover. _This is the fucking problem with "need to know"; sometimes you don't know who needs to know!_

Now all he had to do was really work the whole grieving ghoul bit and hope he hadn't already gotten his girl into more trouble than she could handle. _She's alive._ He allowed himself a moment to really feel it, smiling happily to himself. _She's a-fucking-live._

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Thank you for reading! 3 3


	31. Daddy's Going for Cigarettes

_If you don't stop freaking the fuck out, you're going to blow my cover and get us both killed!_

Adriana was in Shaun's office, trying to act like she hadn't learned about the FEV bullshit that had been going on in Virgil's lab, even after he had sent in several formal complaints about the whole project.

 _But he's a… murderer! A monster!_ Adriana could feel Nora's agitation as she tried to keep a blank, but slightly bitchy, expression on her face; Nora's signature look.

 _You act like I don't already know that. Do you want us to end up as laser rifle ash before we can stop him?_

Silence.

 _I thought not. Now calm down so I can act like I've got my shit together, okay?_

 _Okay… Adriana._ It was the first time that Nora had ever called her by her name.

 _What do you do when the other person in your body suddenly stops trying to sabotage your every move? Rejoice? Question your sanity for the thousandth time?_ Adriana sighed mentally, shoving all that aside so she could try and pick up the thread of Shaun's current rant.

"Regardless, I have a new mission for you. If you think you're up to it, that is," Shaun said, his permanently condescending tone making her want to roll her eyes.

"If you think I am the right person for the job, then I'm sure I am," she replied mildly.

"Oh… you're the perfect person for this job."

There was something in the tone of his voice that sent a wave of apprehension crashing into her. _What the fuck did I just agree to?_

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Hancock was down at the Third Rail, knocking back shots of whiskey and doing a more than passable job at acting like he was sinking further into depression instead of celebrating. Which he absolutely was, in a purely internal way. He was pretty sure that to anyone watching he looked as miserable as one that had lost the love of his life was expected to look.

He was perched on a stool near the end of the bar watching Magnolia sing her synthetic heart out, wondering what it was like where she was born… _made._ Hancock couldn't claim to know every synth in his domain, but he did know a fair amount of them, even the ones that didn't know themselves. He had never been one to judge someone for where they'd been; being a hypocrite wasn't exactly high on his wish list and he'd been in some pretty shady places in his day, most of them by his own doing. Synths, though? They hadn't chosen to be created, but the ones that left had chosen that.

He thought back to when he had decided to leave Diamond City, the only home he'd ever known, remembering how scared he'd been when his leaving didn't come with even a quarter of the danger leaving the Institute came with. How could he do anything other than give someone with that kind of bravery a chance? People had given him the benefit of the doubt, even with this ugly mug of his, so why wouldn't he do the same?

Magnolia finished her set and, with a breathy promise to return soon, sauntered away from her stage and straight toward him.

"How ya holding up, sugar? Haven't seen you around much," she noted, perching on the edge of the stool next to him and placing a hand on his wrist.

"Well, I tried to drown my sorrows in work, but whiskey just tastes better, truth be told," he joked, a half-assed attempt at a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. _Time to sell it…_

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Deacon was busier than he had ever been. Being in charge was… exhausting. He had never appreciated how much work Dez actually did. No one listened. He had to run around answering stupid questions that they would all know the answers to if they had actually paid attention to him the first time. It was infuriating. No wonder Dez didn't have a sense of humor or any personality to speak of… they had sucked all the fun right out of her with this endless, inane nonsense. _Now I have even more motivation to get Adriana back. If I have to be in charge of these loons for much longer, they won't have to worry about death by Institute. Their biggest concern will be death be Deacon._

"Hey, Deacon. You gotta sec?" Drummer Boy asked, interrupting Deacon's internal tirade.

"Let me guess. You've got a question?" Deacon arched one ginger eyebrow above his glasses.

"How'd you know that?" Drummer Boy cocked his head to the side, reminding Deacon of a less than clever mutt.

 _Shoot me. Shoot me now._ He glanced from side to side. _Damn Coursers never show up when you need them._

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They had just come from speaking with Dr. Li. It had been tricky to pass all the pertinent information along without giving away the seriousness of their conversation, but they had managed and now Adriana had herself an ally within the Institute. Dr. Li was ready and willing to not just cut ties, but to do them damage.

"Don't worry, things are going to go fast from here. I have to go get things set up on the surface, but then I'll be back and we'll prepare."

"Just be careful, Nora. The Institute has spies everywhere," Dr. Li warned, eyebrows drawing up slightly in concern.

"Don't worry, you have no idea the secrets I've been keeping. Hopefully someday soon we'll be able to sit down and have a more candid conversation," Adriana said, leaning close so she could drop her voice to barely a whisper.

"I look forward to it."

Adriana turned and made her way out of the doctor's lab, barely keeping the bounce from her step and the bitchy expression in place.

 _This is our chance, Nora. We must have finally convinced him that we can be trusted._ Adriana could barely contain her excitement.

 _But there are still so many details that have to be worked out. How are we ever going to get everything into place in time?_ Adriana could feel Nora's anxiety, but she was too focused, too sure, to let it get to her.

 _We're going to hope that Deacon's on his A-game. He's the only way._

 _You really trust him. I hope it's not misplaced,_ Nora commented.

 _It's not. Now we just have to make some drops and hope it's not suspicious._

 _There are a lot of what-ifs to this plan, Adriana._

Adriana sighed, letting her eyes flutter shut for just a moment. _I need you to put your big girl panties on and get your shit together. You're a badass. Remember? You out-ranked Nate. Let's start acting like it._

Adriana could immediately feel the waves of anxiety that were emanating from Nora fade into nothing as the woman finally got a hold of herself. The relief was immediate and overwhelming.

 _That's more like it. Now let's find X6 and get to the surface. I want to give Deacon as much notice as possible._ She patted her pockets, finding reassurance in the faint sound of crinkling paper that met her ears. They were almost to her favorite part: shooting people.

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"Alright, boys and girls, Daddy's going for cigarettes and he may or may not come back," Deacon said as he stood up suddenly. "And just so no one is left wondering, if I don't come back, yes. It is entirely your fault."

As he turned to leave a chorus of complaints and questions met his ears.

"You'll survive!" Deacon turned slowly, "Unless you make me stay. In that case, I can make no promises."

With those parting words, he scurried out of the HQ. He took a circuitous path to one of his disguise cashes and after a careful check that no one was around to see, he changed into a pair of workman's overall's. He hung a pair of protective goggles around his neck and then hurried on his way towards the first drop he planned on checking.

All he wanted was some sign that Adriana was still alive and kicking, but after the first several drops, he was getting concerned. _What if after all my precautions, she still gets found out?_ Deacon couldn't even consider the possibility. A life without Adriana was hardly a life. She was his best friend and her death would cast a shadow from which he would never escape. He shook his head, trying to dispel his morbid thoughts, and headed toward the next drop.

As he neared, he could hear the sizzle of laser rifle meeting flesh and the grunts of fighting Super Mutants. Deacon looked around, hoping to find higher ground. His prayers were answered and in short order he was slipping past a half rotted door and climbing the stairs on the other side that lead to the second floor. After a moment of searching, he found the roof access and scampered up the ladder and through the hatch. Keeping low, he made his way to the corner of the building and peered over the cold stone.

What he saw was nothing short of beautiful. Adriana was magnificent. She wasn't wearing Institute issued attire, which in his mind should have been their first clue. No, Adriana was dressed in old school Army fatigues. Her uniform was pristine from head to toe, if you didn't count the Mutant blood, that is. As he watched over the ledge of the building, she bashed one of the green bastards in the face with the butt of her rifle and then unloaded on him as he was reeling, holding his face. He dropped to the ground as another came up behind her. He pulled his fist back, intending to punch her in the back of the head, but she had heard his sloppy approach and ducked. Before he could recover, she grabbed the knife from her thigh holster and jabbed it into his side. With a quick twist and an upwards jerk, she pulled it out before stepping back and unloading the rest of her clip into the lumbering giant. He fell, dead, before he could so much as scratch her.

 _I see someone has been keeping up on their studies,_ he thought with satisfaction. As he spied on her from afar, much like he had in the days before they had met, he saw her approach the exact drop he was intending to check. She looked both ways and once she thought the coast was clear she reached into her pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. She then spit out a much chewed piece of gum and used it to affix the note to the inside of the mailbox. She had barely closed the metal slot before X6, her Institute jailor, rounded the corner.

"I take it you are uninjured, ma'am?"

Deacon's lip curled unconsciously at the query. He didn't like the idea that anyone else, beside Hancock that is, considered themself her partner. _That's my job, damn it._

"Of course I am," Adriana responded in a perfect imitation of Nora's superior attitude.

"I would expect nothing less. Ready to move on?" X6 asked, holstering his weapon.

"Yes. Lead the way," Adriana responded. As they began to walk, he could have swore Adriana glanced back in his direction. Maybe it was nothing more than wishful thinking, but he hoped not. He hoped she could feel him there, watching her back.

He waited until he was certain she had left the area before making his way to the drop box and pulling out the note. There was a damp spot from where the gum had been stuck to it, but that didn't make the words any less legible. He almost wished it had. _How am I ever going to get this all prepared in time?_ His thoughts were chaos and despair. He was terrified that he would drop the ball this close to the end zone and that all of this would be for naught. Then he heard Talitha's words echoing in his head, reminding him that he had people that truly cared and were there to help, no questions asked. _It's time,_ he thought, and then high tailed it back to Goodneighbor, his racing heart in his throat.

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Adriana woke the next morning to the sound of three swift knocks on her door. She wanted to roll over and hide her head beneath her pillow, but Nora would never. So, it was with great reluctance that she drug herself from the bed and answered the door. _Just please be anyone but Shaun. It's too early to look at his smug face._

"Hello, Mother."

 _Damn. No dice._

"Son," she responded, matching his detached tone of voice. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Tonight is the night. If there are any more supplies you need or last minute changes or instructions you need to give, now's the time."

 _Adriana, are you sure Deacon has had enough time? If we're going to stall, now's probably our last chance,_ Nora pointed out.

 _We can't. It would be too suspicious and we could risk Shaun going ahead without us. That would be a complete disaster. It's now, Nora. Ready or not._

"I think everything's in order. The only thing I need to do is have one finally talk with the team before we head out. That can wait until later today, though," Adriana responded.

Shaun nodded his head, stretching his mouth into what she assumed was a smile.

"Perfect. Let's hope all goes according to plan. We can't afford any mistakes on this."

"You're right. We can't," Adriana replied, around the knot in her throat. For once, she completely agreed with him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Night had finally fallen over the Wastes when Adriana and her team materialized on the outskirts of Sanctuary. There were only five of them, her included, but all of the synths with her were Coursers. She met the eyes of each one before motioning for them to head out, surrounding the settlement. Adriana looked through her night vision scope, giving the area a quick sweep before doing the same.

It didn't take long for her to reach her destination. She began moving towards Sanctuary at a crouch, looking through her scope as she approached. Sanctuary was surrounded by a large wall, one that was not easy to climb. Unless, of course, you were carrying a grappling hook like she and the rest of her team was. She reached her appointed spot of wall and slung her rifle across her back before grabbing her grappling hook, spinning it on its rope for a moment or two, and then sending it over the wall in a flawless arch. The sound of metal scraping against concrete met her ears and after an experimental tug, she scaled the side of the wall, dropping down on the other side in a near soundless crouch.

It was about that time that the night erupted with sounds of gunfire. Adriana picked up her pace, moving as quickly as she could while still staying as low as possible. Her destination wasn't far off. When she finally reached the house she was looking for, she pulled the door open without hesitation, pistol drawn, and stepped inside coming face to face with her target.

"Hello, Sturges. The Institute is here to take you home," Adriana said, quietly but firmly.


	32. Some Things Are Just Worth Dying For

"Sure did take ya long enough. I was getting a little worried," Sturges replied with a slow smile.

"I thought I made pretty good time, myself. I mean," she looked around dramatically, "I don't see any Coursers accosting you."

"Well, that's true enough," Sturges said, followed by a low chuckle. Neither of them felt like discussing the fact that if a Courser had made it all the way here, that meant one or more of their friends had died.

"Still, we shouldn't take any chances. You ready for this?"

"For teleporting back into the Institute after only having just discovered I was a synth that voluntarily had my memory wiped just to get away from them?" He shrugged casually. "Sure, why not?"

 _I don't know whether to be impressed or exasperated by you and your entire crew. You're all so casual about risking your lives,_ Nora commented. Adriana could feel her admiration, though, and was startled by how pleased Nora's approval made her feel.

 _Some things are just worth dying for. You know that. You were more than happy to die for your country and then for your family,_ Adriana replied as she fiddled with her watch. It was her ticket back into the Institute, thanks to Dr. Amari. She could use it to transport back without the help of a Courser since, well, they were all going to be rather unavailable if everything went as planned.

Just as Adriana was about to hit the button to send them off in a flash of blinding light, she heard a sound at the door. Her gun was pointed at the noise before she had even thought to move, body angled to shield Sturges, reacting on sheer reflex.

"Don't shoot, Ma'am," the familiar, slightly detached sounding voice hit her like a fist to the gut.

"What are you doing here, X6?" She tried to keep her voice from shaking, but she wasn't all that certain of her success.

 _What in God's name is he doing here? Do you think Shaun sent him here to kill us?_

 _I know just as much as you do, Nora._

 _But what are we going to-_

 _I don't know, but I need you to shut up so I can figure it out!_

X6 started to step further into the room.

"No, that's close enough. I need answers," she said firmly. She spared a second to be thankful that Sturges was staying out of the discussion completely. Nora was distracting enough.

"I am here to help you, Adriana. I knew when you did not assign me to the extraction team that tonight was the night."

She didn't know what to say. For a brief moment she felt like she was falling.

 _He knows it's me, Nora. Did you catch that?_

 _I did. Fuck. Do we trust him?_ Nora asked.

 _I don't know._

"We don't have time to waste, Ma'am," X6, unnecessarily, pointed out. "There is no reason to doubt me. If I had gone to Father about your plan, this entire place would be covered with Synths. Do you hear anything like that happening?"

 _He has a point and we're out of time._

"So you're prepared to fight against the Institute? Against Father?"

"I'm prepared to fight at your side, like I always do."

"Then let's go," she replied. _And let's hope I haven't just killed us all._

Hancock and MacCready watched as the Courser's grappling hook flew in a neat arch over Sanctuary's wall. Although they were both watching the same Courser, they were doing so from very different locations. Playing to their respective strengths, MacCready was safely ensconced in a sniper's perch while Hancock, who prefered to be up close and personal, was on the ground. He was crouched in the shadow of a nearby house, armed with several knives and a suppressed, extended mag 10mm pistol.

There were three other groups similarly stationed around Sanctuary, staring at the wall, waiting for Institute ordered, walking death to come climbing over. You could feel the tension radiating through the night, or at least Hancock would have sworn he could. _Maybe it's just the Mentats though..._ It was almost a relief when the synth finally appeared, because now he could finally do something.

Hancock barely heard Mac's new gun fire and even that was only because he was expecting it and because of his proximity to the Courser. _Tinker Tom's Special, huh? No false advertising there!_ A hand full of Railroad members had turned up in Sanctuary yesterday, Deacon in the lead and a twitching Tinker Tom bringing up the rear. Hancock wasn't exactly sure what the loon had to offer, but now he knew.

As Mac pulled the trigger three times in quick succession, Hancock took a quick puff of some Jet. _I'll take all the advantages I can get_ , he thought, as the Courser, obviously caught off guard, fell from the top of the wall in slow motion and landed hard on his left shoulder. While Mac was reloading, Hancock took a few steps closer and unloaded all sixteen rounds into the synth before he could even stand up. While Hancock retreated to reload, RJ shot another three rounds. Hancock could only assume they had found their target, because the Courser quit struggling, falling completely flat against the packed dirt.

Hancock was almost disappointed. _That was… easy._ Then he felt like an ass for bitching about life throwing him a bone so he shrugged it off and headed to where he and RJ were supposed to meet.

"Ready to head to the next location?" The sniper asked, voice so quiet Hancock could barely make out the words.

"I'll lead the way," he responded with a nod. What he really wanted to do was run to where he knew Adriana was: with Sturges. They were finally so close, in the same fucking neighborhood, but they both had jobs to do and even an ounce of distraction could cost someone their life. So, with a determination he hadn't even known he possessed, he shoved the thought of her from his mind and headed toward the next Courser hoping that Glory and Preston had the situation under control.

Deacon and Fahrenheit had, sloppily, dispatched their Courser. It had taken longer, and been louder, than he felt comfortable with, but dead was dead. He hoped everyone else was doing a better job than they had.

"At least the damn thing is dead," the other red head pointed out, speaking at a normal decibel that sounded like yelling in the now quiet night.

"You're not one for following directions, are you?" Deacon asked, whispering pointedly.

"How'd you guess?" He was pretty sure that he would have been able to hear her voice all the way back at the Red Rocket gas station.

Deacon, literally biting his tongue, shook his head and turned toward the rendezvous point. _I can't wait to have my partner back. Good help is so hard to find._ It was only in that moment that the enormity of what they were doing hit him and his steps faltered momentarily. _If everything goes according to plan, I might not need a partner anymore._

That one thought echoed around in his brain as he trudged forward.

"There you are!" Dr. Li exclaimed as soon as Adriana materialized in her office. Quickly followed by, "What the hell is he doing here?!"

"Helping, apparently." Adriana replied, trying to sound nonchalant and like she had all her shit together, which she absolutely did not.

"But why? How?"

"We don't have time. Are you ready?" Adriana asked, trying to move on. _We're on such a strict time table…_

"Yes. Everyone's in place," she replied, instantly switching gears.

"Good, let's hope it stays that way." She turned to X6, "Stay with me. We've got to get Sturges and Dr. Li to where they can override the system and teleport the rest of my team in." As they headed out, Adriana silently worried that they wouldn't be able to figure out how to get everyone in before they were found out. _What if it just can't be done?_

 _Between Sturges and Dr. Li, I can't imagine they'll fail,_ Nora reassured her. _I'm more worried about what comes after they succeed._

 _For what it's worth… I'm sorry._

 _So am I, Adriana. So am I._

Kleo was the last one to take out her Courser, but that was by design. She stalked him as he silently prowled through the settlement, the idea being to give the others time to kill their targets silently before she, loudly, turned hers to a smoking pile of ash.

Deacon and Fahrenheit were almost to the rendezvous point, his eye twitching in time with the heavy sound of each of her footfalls, when Kleo finally took out the last Courser with a startling display that thoroughly shattered the relative silence of the night. _Let's hope everyone got their targets, without any of the targets getting them._ It was then that he heard footsteps coming in his direction and the sound of labored breathing.

Deacon, not bothering to indicate to Fahrenheit where he was going, peeled off of their designated path and towards the sounds. It didn't take long to figure out who the noises were coming from.

"Just hang in there, pal. You'll be alright," Hancock's craggy voice said reassuringly.

Deacon hurried to catch up to his friends, a ball of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. _And so it begins._ They all knew the realities of going after the Institute and how high the price could be, but that didn't make it hurt any less. _Hopefully tonight is the last night that anyone dies at the hands of the Institute._ Deacon wasn't so naive as to think they could do this with no casualties; he'd been at this for too long. _I had hoped we'd all at least make it past Phase 1…_

"I'm not quite sure alright's in the cards," Preston respond, pained chuckle turning into gasps of pain. Hancock and Glory were supporting the general while RJ was on lookout duty, which meant he was the first to notice Deacon approaching.

"You better not let your Minutemen hear you talking like that, General," Deacon chided, trying to sound upbeat.

"At least Sturges won't be here to see what comes next..." the general grunted, voice trailing off.

"That's exactly the kind of talk you're supposed to be avoiding. Take a page from my book, preferably from the chapter titled, _Denial and Other Crappy Coping Mechanisms,"_ Deacon quipped.

"Look, just sit me down and get to the rendezvous point. Adriana and Sturges are screwed if you don't make it to the extraction and I'm just slowing you down."

 _Could you think of yourself, just this once?_ Deacon thought in exasperation. Saying instead, "You know we aren't going to do that. Glory is going to take you to the vault where Maggie and the other noncombatants can take care of you and then she's going to hightail it back in time for the extraction."

"Like hell I am! You're not going into the Institute without me! If ever a mission called for as many heavies as possible, it's this one." Glory never broke eye contact with Deacon as she extricated herself from under Preston's arm, leaving Hancock with the burden of his weight.

"You will if I tell you to," Deacon responded evenly, voice barely at conversational level. "You know I am the ranking agent on this particular mission and as such-"

"Deacon, I appreciate it. Really I do, but I need you to make the rendezvous with as many people as possible. I need to know that Sturges has the best chance of making it back out." Preston's voice was pained, but strong and Deacon knew that he was right.

Deacon nodded at Hancock's inquiring gaze and the mayor nodded before helping Preston over to the large tree in the center of the cul-de-sac. He gently lowered the injured man to the ground before reaching into his pocket and pulling out some Stimpaks.

"They won't completely do the trick, but maybe they'll slow the bleeding enough for help to come," Hancock's raspy voice echoed in the silence that followed.

"Thanks, Mayor. Now go save our better halves," Preston ordered, leaning back against the tree with his eyes shut.

Deacon only hesitated for a second before hurrying on. Nothing was harder than leaving an ally behind, but there was still work to be done and he couldn't afford to not look at the bigger picture. _What's that saying? Something about the road to hell being paved with good intentions?_

Adriana, closely followed by Sturges, Dr. Li, and X6, was hurrying towards their destination. She signaled them to stay back as she rounded a corner and almost bumped into one of Shaun's personal synths.

"Ah, there you are, Mother! Father is most distraught and looking for you," he told her in a voice pitched with worry. Shaun must be seriously upset for this synth to be showing even this small break in detachment. All of the institute synths spoke calmly and acted as vacant as possible, in constant fear that any sign of emotion would get them reset.

"Tell him I will be there shortly," Adriana responded as calmly as she could muster with Nora's panicked ranting invading her thoughts. _WE'RE FUCKED. HE'S TOO SMART. HE FUCKING KNOWS. WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE._

 _Chill. The. Fuck. Out._ Adriana ordered, smiling at the worried synth as he turned and headed back in the direction he had come from.

Adriana retreated back around the corner only to be confronted by three faces that clearly echoed Nora's thoughts.

"X6, get them to the mainframe. I'll take care of Shaun."

"Good luck," he responded, physically pushing his two charges in order to get them moving.

Adriana turned on her heel and followed after the synth, each step slow and deliberate, as her hand rested on her holstered weapon.

 _Nora, I know you keep telling me you're ready for this, but…_

 _Yeah. Thought and reality are two different beasts._

 _Exactly._

 _Even if this kills me, I won't stop you. I might have given birth to him, but the Institute is the one that created this monster and he needs put down,_ Nora responded resolutely.

There was nothing left for them to say and no time for words, anyway. Shaun was suddenly in front of her, rage and confusion clear in the lines of his face.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!"

 _Please let them get here in time,_ Adriana pleaded to no one in particular.


End file.
